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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24129487">Of Mongolian Fireflies and Russian Sharpclaws</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/barnettdidit/pseuds/barnettdidit'>barnettdidit</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Humor, Ministry Job, Miscommunication, Mystery, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, they're both big dumb idiots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:40:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>37,752</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24129487</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/barnettdidit/pseuds/barnettdidit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As colleagues for the F.A.U.C.E.T. (Fetching And Uncovering Creatures Experiencing Terror) department, Draco and Hermione have had their fair share of arguments. When they face their hardest case yet, mixed with an odd swarm of fireflies that glow in the colour according to how they feel about each other, Hermione is struggling to keep a straight mind.</p>
<p>
  <em><br/>"Malfoy, I’m just trying to do something at least! I don’t know how to keep them from taking our cases over, but if you reject all of my ideas, I can’t bloody help you either!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The volume of her voice was rising, as well as the shrill tone she detested so much. She watched as Malfoy hurdled several pens across the room, accompanied by a bellow of angry, non-verbal noises.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Not if your ideas suck so much! Get Potter in on this”, he continued with a mocking, nasal voice that imitated hers only seconds earlier, and Hermione’s ears rushed with a mount of blood, anger rising in her chest. The quill in her hand snapped. </em>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>312</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>dm fanfics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Mongolian Fireflies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was supposed to be a oneshot. You can see what happened. Please enjoy!</p>
<p>the absolutely gorgeous moodboard was done for me by my dear cherry, @expvctopatronum on twitter, thank you so much love!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>The woods were covered in a thick, white blanket and branches hung deep in their path, the heavy weight of snow dragging them down. Hermione pushed the branches away from her face, uncaring for the way they snapped back into place behind her, eyes fixed onto her wand lain on her outstretched palm, pointing their way. Heavy footsteps were audible behind her, dragging and accompanied by the occasional gruff mumble of discontent.</p><p>“Granger, if you snap another one of these in my face, I will- “</p><p>“Oh, sod off Malfoy, your threats are getting dull”, Hermione interrupted him, staring ahead unbothered.</p><p>“I hope for your sake that we’re back home, soon. This cold is just disgusting, my skin isn’t used to this climate.”</p><p>Hermione rolled her eyes. “Don’t act so uptight and royal, Malfoy. You’re just afraid to get lost. Merlin help me, I’d never find you again, you’re the exact same shade of snow.”</p><p>Fast shuffling caught up to her, and suddenly he was stomping beside her, a dirty sneer on his pale face, turned towards the ground. White-blonde puffs of hair were falling in his eyes and he kept blowing them away, to no avail.</p><p>Hermione wrapped her free arm tight around her middle and looked ahead. It seemed that finally, after about an hour of walking, they had arrived at what was probably a blooming meadow during summertime, now a large, white field with a small mountain-house nestled comfortably into the edge.</p><p>“I don’t understand why they can’t provide us with portkeys to get there, why do they send us walking through the woods for hours, it’s not like magic literally exists to be used-“, Malfoy started whining again as he kept walking obliviously, and Hermione shoved her elbow into his side to make him look up.</p><p>He sighed audibly at the sight of dark grey puffs emanating from the chimney. Someone was home.</p><p>Even if Hermione didn’t like to admit it, he was right; it really was quite annoying to trudge through the deep Russian woods they’d been sent to. They had to retrieve what seemed to be a baby dragon ravaging nearby villages. Their main informant lived in the cottage they had finally arrived at; a reclused wizard who had discovered the nature of the mysterious stealings and vandalizations close muggle villages had to suffer from in recent times.</p><p>Apparently, he knew where the dragon’s nest was located in these vast woods. Despite her partner’s bitching, Hermione had to admit that it had been an awful travel to find this hut.</p><p>Another 20-minute-long trek later, the two found themselves in front of a shaky wooden door. Malfoy was walking in circles on the porch, and Hermione was trying her best to ignore him. Today was a particularly bad day for him; he was rarely this prissy during their missions. He was usually more of a brooding, towering wall behind her, there to intimidate the people they questioned and grunt non-verbal answers whenever he was asked something.</p><p>As Hermione considered knocking for a third time, suddenly, she could make out lead-footed footsteps approaching from within the house, and Malfoy’s circling stopped as they both stared at the door. Then, with a screeching whine, the door creaked open to reveal their informant.</p><p>Heavy animal felts hung down the massive shoulders, and every bit of clothing seemed to be stitched together from scraps of fabric and tissue. Hermione had to step back to look at the man fully without putting her head in her neck; it oddly reminded her of Hagrid.</p><p>Fitting the iron-clad boots and the rest of his feral appearance, the man’s face was largely covered by huge, bushy eyebrows that were frowning disapprovingly as he peered down at them. Hermione remembered what they were there for all of a sudden, but no words left her mouth.</p><p>“Hello Mr. Rakitin. Miss Granger and I are here on behalf of the British Ministry of Magic, to take a look at the dragon you have discovered in the surrounding woods.”</p><p>Hermione exhaled the breath stuck in her throat as Malfoy spoke. He had joined her side, shoulder to shoulder, forming a wall.</p><p>Rakitin looked them up and down and nodded, before grunting something that sounded awfully like “Come in”.</p><p>With that, he turned away and disappeared into the depths of his hut. Malfoy gave her an incredulous look, a raised eyebrow asking why she’d choked up. She shook her head and the blonde shrugged before following the isolated wizard.</p><p>The inside of the hut seemed very much like the kind of place someone like Rakitin would live in; the walls were covered in large animal pelts, as were the floors, and shelves towering tall above them were filled to the brim with Russian books. Bits of muggle technology and wizarding gimmicks like a radio and rows of potions were strewn throughout the messy hallways and any rooms they could catch a look into. Rakitin led them into what Hermione thought to be the living room, with a large couch and a reclined armchair, both surprisingly covered in even more animal felts.</p><p>Hermione felt tense; the walls seemed to close in with every further step they took, and the few sources of light inside cast long, flickering shadows capturing their every movement. It oddly felt like a place she shouldn’t be; a place no one should be.</p><p>In the living room, Rakitin fell into the armchair with a grunt, and Hermione could see his face clearly now as he took of a scarf that had covered his mouth; small, beady eyes bore through them, suspicion etched into the time-telling wrinkles of his face. A long, black beard that could have challenged Dumbledores disappeared inside his large overcoat.</p><p>Hermione followed Malfoy as he perched himself at the edge of the stuffy couch, and she kept her eyes from wandering around their surroundings; instead, she retrieved a notebook from her purse. Malfoy had put his head in his neck, eyes fixed onto a small, mismatched chandelier on the ceiling.</p><p>“So, Mister Rakitin, we have been informed that you know of the extent of the dragon’s misbehaving’s, as well as the breed and his current location. Could you possibly recount everything you know for our records?”, Hermione asked, ignoring her partner’s rude disinterest in whatever their informant was about to relay.</p><p>With a heavy cough, the wizard started retelling everything in a nasal, thick accent, voice vacant of any nuance or rhythm. Hermione wondered how long it had been since the man had interacted with another human being as she listened, her charmed quill scribbling wildly.</p><p>Not 15 minutes later, after taking another look around his house and bagging up the research Ratikin had provided, the pair was heading out again.</p><p>“Did you listen to anything he said?”, Hermione asked, immediately turning East, where Ratikin had described to find the dragon’s nest.</p><p>“Why should I? You’re gonna tell me everything anyway”, the blonde drawled as he followed her suit and Hermione puffed up, aggressively whisking away the wild strands of hair from her face.</p><p>“Well in that case, I just won’t tell you anything, then.”</p><p>Malfoy huffed a breath of laughter.</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>Hermione balled fists at her side and quickened her pace, stomping through the snow.</p><p>It had taken years for them to build up a rapport of unwilling collegiality, through screaming fits, folders and reports chucked at each other’s heads, tantrums at their superiors, beggings for a change of partner and sometimes, a quiet yet lethal battle of wits, snarky remarks and snide insults to drive each other up the walls. For a while now they had found a rhythm through which the other was bearable, but even then, there were still moments where Malfoys old, pratty self resurfaced to taunt and torture her.</p><p>Their mission was going well so far. They had left London only this morning, and if things kept going like this, they would be home in a smidge. There was no reason to act like this, other than-</p><p>Hermione’s foot caught a root sticking out, hidden from her view by the snow, and she shrieked as her body flew forward, crashing into white, freezing pillow of snow. Ice-cold flakes stuck to her face and hair, invading her mouth and clinging to her clothes and Hermione rolled over, just about ready to flail out her limbs and give up.</p><p>Her eyes locked onto Malfoy’s, who stood above her, mouth set in a thin line. She knew that expression.</p><p>“Shut up”, she hissed, recovering from her fall to haul herself up as she swatted away his stretched-out hand. His shoulders were shaking with the laughter he was holding him, wrinkles forming around his eyes with the effort. Hermione almost wanted to laugh with him, but his prissy behaviour was not deserving of being humoured today.</p><p>With a few quick charms, she had cast away the snow covering her and surrounded herself in a cloud of warm air, and returned to her path towards the dragon’s nest. Malfoy was quietly chuckling to himself as he followed her.</p><p>“Rakitik thinks it’s a Swedish Short-Snout, a baby one. Judging from the size he described, he must have hatched only a few weeks ago. As soon as we’ve finished the reports, he’ll be sent to Charlie’s resort.”</p><p>Hermione rattled down the information sitting at the tip of her tongue, unable to keep it from her partner, however insufferable he was being. Instead of the expected disinterest, Malfoy gave a curious noise.</p><p>“A Swedish Short-Snout? This is not Sweden. And they usually don’t go near Muggle villages.”</p><p>Hermione nodded. “Exactly. We need to examine him carefully and find out where he hatched. I say smugglers lost the egg and if it weren’t for the cold climate, it likely would have never hatched.”</p><p>Malfoy tipped his head in thought.</p><p>“That doesn’t explain why it got so close to Muggle villages.”</p><p>Hermione didn’t answer, because she had none. The thought of that peeved her enough to speed up her pace.</p><p> </p><p>Just as Ratikin had promised, it had taken less than 20 minutes to arrive at a large cave inside the solid frozen ground. Hermione recognized it immediately, hushing Draco aside to hide behind a couple of trees.</p><p>They exchanged no words as Draco shrugged off his long overcoat and the one underneath to retrieve his wand and several potions, securing them to his belt, revealing a grey cashmere sweater and dark jeans; his casual, ridiculously fancy work clothing. Hermione spread her own coat on the ground to organize everything they’d need to carefully check the nest and find any hints as to how the dragon got here and why it behaved so abnormally. In the distance, they could hear occasional cries bellowing and bouncing around the concave walls of the cave. It definitely sounded like a young one.</p><p>“Go ahead, I’ll get all of this ready”, Hermione said, sat on her feet, flipping through the notebook without looking up to see Malfoy’s reaction. He did nothing but shrug and turned around to go follow the dragon noises.</p><p>Even if she did not like to admit it, Malfoy was much better at handling these dangerous creatures up close, and she often let him take the lead in situations like this. Hermione watched as his figure shrunk further and further away until it disappeared, and she looked up towards the blinding sky through the crowns of the thick trees. The sun reflected off of the snow brilliantly, appearing vibrant and almost hypnotic around her. Just then, Hermione’s eyes caught onto a small movement above her to the left. She squinted, once again wiping away a mob of her hair clinging to her forehead.</p><p>It was a colourful swarm of animals, flitting around in stark contrast to their surroundings, hovering closer and closer to Hermione. All thoughts of helping Malfoy were cast aside when she realized what the swarm was, exactly: Mongolian Fireflies.</p><p>Hermione had read about them a lot, fascinated by their nature and abilities, but she’d never thought she’d see them in person. Without a thought wasted, she procured a charmed jar, cast a spell to match the climate inside to the one surrounding her, and with a quick flick of her wand, several of the little flies zoomed in, as if right at home. She screwed the lid shut and put it back into her enlargened purse.</p><p>Just then she heard her name being shouted, and she looked up to see Malfoy at the edge of the cave, waving. Beside him was a small, charmed net lain with a sleeping dragon inside.</p><p>Hermione sighed. She was not going to hear the end of this.</p><p> </p><p>As one of two workers for F.A.U.C.E.T., Fetching And Uncovering Creatures Experiencing Terror, Hermione was used to working in an office that was nothing short of a mess. Several pinboards were constantly filled with pictures and reports of rare creatures that were close to extinction; ongoing missions that required them to check up on the last few remaining animals regularly to ensure their safety as well as their continuant breeding. Then there were several aquariums, mostly empty, though sometimes filled with animals they took back from missions lining the wall opposite their desks.</p><p>There was a constant buzzing and chirping coming from said cages and accompanied by the array of bushy plants lining their windowsills, the FAUCET office always seemed to be in a state of jungle-like disarray. Their newest addition were the Mongolian fireflies; they flitted around the aquarium nearest to Hermione in a colourful cloud. She had charmed the inside to expand and changed the climate to fit the one they were used to.</p><p>The Faucet division of their department was responsible for exactly that: Navigating and fetching lost, rare or exploited creatures that were either abused by wizards or Muggles, or were being a nuisance to their surroundings. As soon as Hermione had gotten promoted from her previously mind-bogglingly boring desk job pertaining to working on reports from the Auror’s office, she’d been thrilled to finally do some worthwhile work, perhaps even promote S.P.E.W.. Her excitement had died the moment she was introduced to her partner; a certain pratty blonde who could as easily get a rise out of her as she did him.</p><p>She could still remember the day they started working together, when they were introduced as partners. It had been nerve-wrecking.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>For the fifth time in seven minutes, Hermione’s eyes shot up from her work to read the time. What used to be Seamus’ desk was now completely bare and empty, void of his old messy files, threatening to fall apart at any moment. Now there was nothing there but a candle and paper trays, waiting to be filled.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Admittedly, she did miss Seamus a bit, but she understood why he’d transferred to the sports department. They worked well enough together, but Hermione could always tell that his heart wasn’t in it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A week had passed since he suddenly left for a newly opened position, and Hermione’s superiors had been scrambling to find a replacement. Just this morning a memo announcing the imminent arrival of her chosen colleague had reached her, and while the time had been rather unspecificed (“sometime around lunch”), she could not stop checking the clock. Whoever was going to come better not be late, or this would already be off to a bad start.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>So one could imagine her surprise when her office door finally opened and Draco Malfoy, name-calling bully and Ex-Death Eater, fresh out of a year of house arrest an then two more, walked in and ogled Hermione with much the same expression she suspected was on her face. A surge of nauseating memories rushed through her mind; past images of a young, sharp-faced boy who mocked her appearance in the schoolyard, insulted her blood status, whispering to his friends as his eyes bored into hers during lessons.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hermione’s stomach dropped.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>As her hand unconsciously grabbed her wand, watching him trudge slowly across the room to put down his cloak on Seamus’ old desk, he raised his chin and wrinkled his nose, seemingly in an attempt to mirror his old habits of sneering down at people.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m your new partner.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His voice was tentative, a shiver of insecurity slicing at the arrogant sneer he used to carry himself with for years. Hermione couldn’t remember a single time when she’d seen the Malfoy heir so shy. She opened her mouth and for a moment, she wasn’t sure if she could find her voice.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It seems so”, she croaked. Her mind was racing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Was she expected to work with Malfoy of all people? Her old school bully? Someone who wanted her dead, not so long ago? Actually, who knew if he even surpassed his old mindsets. For all she knew, he could pull out his wand and finish the job right there and then. And there was absolutely no way Malfoy had the know-how for this job.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This had to be a mistake.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>It had not been a mistake, sadly. As it turned out, during a year of mandatory house arrest for Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, he had studied up on magizoology, and together with an ‘Outstanding’ in his ‘Care of Magical Creatures’ NEWTs, there had been no reason not to hire him for the faucet position.</p><p>Their first week was spent with awkward, empty silences; carefully moving around the other as if either could suddenly turn their case study into an impromptu duel. Ironically, the ice broke one Monday morning, a week after their first day together, when Hermione came to work exactly at nine to find him waiting in the visitors chair at her desk, refusing to start work until he could tell her something.</p><p>That something was a short but hefty apology for everything he’d done during their schoolyears, during the war, as well as a promise that if he was going to be a prat, it would be in the realm of the new, improved version of himself. He stuck to that promise vehemently, because in all of their hundreds of fights and quarrels over the years, he had never once used her blood status to diminish her argument.</p><p>It was awfully frustrating, because this meant that he would only criticise the things about her that she could actually control, like the conclusions she came to in their cases, her investigative skills, and sometimes, when he seemed really desperate, her choice of wardrobe.</p><p>For some reason, after his apology that left Hermione slightly dazed, the awkward air was gone; from that day on, their incessant arguments literally would not stop. Like a dam of year-long frustration and irritation had been released by the promised redemption of past mistakes.</p><p>Their shared office-space had not made their… less than ideal situation any easier, but Hermione liked to think that through lots of screaming matches and sulking sessions, they had managed to transform their office into something unique.</p><p>Hermione furrowed her brows, her quill halting in its scratching as her mind turned over their discoveries again, for what felt like the thousandth time in the past few hours. Something about this just did not make any sense whatsoever-</p><p>“Malfoy, can you give me ‘Dragons of the past 10.000 years’?”, she mumbled, not bothering to look up to her partner across from her, who was likely resting his boots on his desk, displaying a disgusting amount of disinterest in their work. Too many fights had been had about his habit of putting his feet in places they shouldn’t be, and Hermione was not in the mood for a quarrel.</p><p>Without as much as a protest, the book she’d requested levitated across their space and landed in front of her. She found what she was looking for immediately, and finally she looked up to see his haunches perched on top of a mountain of files, arms crossed behind his head, face turned towards the ceiling with closed eyes. He seemed to be skilfully asleep.</p><p>“Draco, come here for a second. I found something.”</p><p>The use of his given name seemed to wake him from his trance, and he squinted his eyes open to give her a bleak stare. Hermione waved her hand, a sign for him to hurry up.</p><p>The rest of their mission had not lasted for very long the day before. After gloating for a good few minutes about conquering the dragon on his own and shutting up rather fast when Hermione pointed out that it was literally a baby dragon, yet unable to even spew fire. They had taken a look at the nest; the egg shells were nearby, but no sign of a mother or how it had gotten there.</p><p>The entire time, Hermione had felt something curious; a magical buzzing in the air that forced her to consider whether or not this was any usual case of a dragon egg getting lost, or if there was more behind it. They had worked silently, without the occasional jabs and nags, and Hermione was certain that Malfoy had felt it too.</p><p>“What is it?”, he drawled, swaggering over to perch himself on the edge of her desk, leaning over the page she had opened.</p><p>“Remember how we wondered why the Short-Snout would go near a Muggle village? And why it would end up in Russia of all places?”</p><p>Malfoy nodded silently, eyes roaming over the contents of the dragon breed Hermione had found. He squinted then.</p><p>“Granger, what does the Russian Sharpclaw have to do with this? They’ve been extinct for at least 500 years.”</p><p>Hermione ruffled through the records and pulled out the images they took of the incapacitated dragon.</p><p>“Yes, exactly! Look at his scaling. Baby Short-Snouts are usually silver, but this one has a hint of green with it, instead of the typical blue. And you said that it didn’t attack with fire, right? Short-Snouts can usually breathe fire days after being born. All of this, plus going near humans, does not match up with Short-Snouts, but it matches up with the Russian Sharpclaw!”</p><p>She rambled everything down as more and more inconsistencies unravelled. Malfoy grunted, pulling the description of the Russian Sharpclaw close and taking the picture from her hand. Hermione watched as he read the page quickly, eyes sometimes flitting to the picture, likely to cross examine with the physical description of the extinct dragon.</p><p>“You’re right”, he mumbled, and he closed his eyes to rub the bridge of his nose. Hermione could sense the impending spout of emotion.</p><p>“You know what that means”, she said, and he pushed off her desk to walk across the room, hands furiously roaming through his hair, groaning loudly. She almost felt bad.</p><p>“Merlin help me, I bloody hate those worthless swots.”</p><p>He stood in front of the firefly aquarium, shoulders tense and arms crossed. His side profile revealed a clenched jaw, mouth pressed into a thin line. Hermione sighed, dipping her head to write her latest discovery, closing the file. For good.</p><p>“Me neither.”</p><p>Usually, she would offer a word of comfort or understanding, but today she shared his anger. Her fingers curled around the closed report, itching to rip it apart, the muscles in her hand stiff from restraint. It had happened way to often lately.</p><p>“That bloody Rabnott and her goons, they don’t even do anything with the cases. They just throw them away.”</p><p>Hermione watched as the fireflies turned into a vibrant purple and she raised a brow. Malfoy did not seem to notice the change of lighting. He turned around, stalking back to his desk and Hermione watched him like a prowling predator.</p><p>“I can talk to Harry about it. Being Head Auror is still just a formality.”</p><p>The fireflies turned blue, with flecks of green in between. Malfoy scoffed.</p><p>“Yes, let’s get the wunderkind in on this, he will care about some time travelling illegality. Potter won’t be able to do anything else, either.” The aquarium glowed orange.</p><p>Hermione groaned. Nothing was good enough for him.</p><p>“Malfoy, I’m just trying to do something at least! I don’t know how to keep them from taking our cases over, but if you reject all of my ideas, I can’t bloody help you either!”</p><p>The volume of her voice was rising, as well as the shrill tone she detested so much. The fireflies continued to glow orange and Hermione’s nose crinkled in disgust, watching as Malfoy hurdled several pens across the room, accompanied by a bellow of angry, non-verbal noises.</p><p>“Not if your ideas suck so much! Get Potter in on this”, he continued with a mocking, nasal voice that imitated hers only seconds earlier, and Hermione’s ears rushed with a mount of blood, anger rising in her chest. The quill in her hand snapped.</p><p>“You’re supposed to be the Brightest Witch of her Age, where’s all of that brightness when you can’t even keep the dom from taking our cases!”, he shouted, face red with the effort of screaming. Hermione’s chair scratched over the floor with an unforgiving squeak that hurt her ears, and in the matter of seconds, she had her wand pointed at him, trembling with the intense bout of fury igniting her insides.</p><p>“Don’t call me that”, she seethed, holding his gaze, daring him to say one more word.</p><p>But even Malfoy knew when to stop. She almost expected him to stomp and flail his arms like the first year she remembered, but instead he kicked a non-existent stone and turned towards the row of cages and aquariums.</p><p>“Fucking Rabnott, she- Why do these things keep changing fucking colours!”, he roared, aggressively waving his arms towards the fireflies that had suddenly turned purple again, completely forgetting the sentence he’d started about the Head of the Department of Mysteries. Hermione refrained from answering.</p><p>Rabnott was an omnipresent force; she had access to every other department, could move around freely and watch everyone and everything with hawk-eyes. There had always been something deeply unsettling about the way she moved noiselessly, her completely perfect appearance and the atmosphere of pure power she emitted.</p><p>Malfoy turned away, massaging the bridge of his nose once more. There was nothing to be heard but the increasing jungle noises and their heavy breaths as both collected themselves. Hermione smoothed her frizzing hair down, hands still shivering. Calmly, she pulled her chair back and sat down, repairing her quill and crossing her arms as she watched Malfoy’s back.</p><p>Then, he turned, walking towards her and taking the file she had outstretched, flipping through the pages of handwritten records, interviews and pictures. A whole days’ worth of work completely lost. His brows were furrowed, lips pursed in a thoughtful pout. The sharp angles of his face he had grown into since the end of the war lent a fearsome graveness to his expression, one that Hermione had learned to read.</p><p>“There’s no loophole, Malfoy. We have to hand it over.”</p><p>Slowly, he nodded. Hermione watched as the Fireflies turned orange again. He followed her gaze.</p><p>“Really, what are those things?”, he asked, pointedly calm.</p><p>“They’re Mongolian fireflies. They kind of work like a mood ring- “</p><p>The wizard raised an eyebrow at her mention of muggle culture. She rephrased her words.</p><p>“When you say someone’s name, they sense the change of your aura and they light up in a colour according to how you feel about the mentioned person. It’s said that we feel all of the possible emotions about everyone to a certain degree, but depending on your relationship with said person, some colours are more dominant.”</p><p>She recited the book she’d read last night in a perfectly monotone voice, and Malfoy seemed to listen intently, much to her surprise. He was still watching the aquarium.</p><p>“Sybill Rabnott”, he barked, and the flies glowed in a deep, purple light.</p><p>“Purple means deep disdain, or even hate”, Hermione said before he could ask. Malfoy’s mood seemed to lighten considerably now, and he even breathed a haughty chuckle.</p><p>“At least they’re right”, he said. And with that, he dropped the file onto her desk and turned away. The topic was done.</p><p> </p><p>“Granger.”</p><p>“Hm.”</p><p>“What does yellow stand for?”</p><p>Hermione looked up from yet another file, another day, to offer Malfoy her most incredulous look. He was stretched out on the armchair on the other side of her desk as he often did, flipping through the latest reports they’d gotten from the almost extinct Moon-Hyenas in Switzerland. He had pushed back his pale hair and several buttons of his button-up had come loose over the hours. He rarely let himself go like this, but the loss of their Russian Sharpclaw case had hit his work morality hard.</p><p>“Playful love”, she said curtly, returning to her own file, quill scratching over the parchment as she took notes. “It’s not actual love, more like a crush. Why?”</p><p>“Interesting.”</p><p>Hermione looked up again to find him rubbing his chin thoughtfully, eyes set on the aquarium to her left. Years of working with the emotionless Slytherin had taught her to read the fine tell-tale signs of his body language, and Hermione was getting more and more certain that his interest in the fireflies and the information they could offer up was nearing an unhealthy infatuation.</p><p>“While you were off with the Weasley girl, that stupid bint two doors down came in to tell me that McLaggen invites us to have a drink tonight. The things lit up yellow when she said his name.”</p><p>Hermione’s gaze followed his to rest on the now orange flies flitting about, halting her writing as she contemplated the information he’d offered. It was the kind of juicy gossip Ginny would love to hear about, and exactly the kind of stuff Hermione could not care less for.</p><p>“If you’re just gonna use them to find out how our co-workers feel about each other, then I’ll take them home, Malfoy. And don’t you dare go blabbering about what we find out here, it’s invasive.”</p><p>In a smidge, Malfoy was irritated again.</p><p>“Invasive? You put them here in the first place! I can’t help but notice when they change colours!”, he snapped, the tone in his voice climbing to heights she only ever heard inside their office. She didn’t offer him an answer, but more a very tired look of detachment, which he dramatically rolled his eyes at.</p><p>“What’s pink? And orange?”, he asked then, and Hermione just noticed the change of the fireflies’ colours mere seconds ago.</p><p>“I won’t tell you, because it’s invasive”, she replied indifferently. Malfoy tilted his head in thought, then jumped up, walking over to their shelves of books behind his desk. Hermione halted her writing to watch him search in vain.</p><p>“Accio book about Mongolian Fireflies.”</p><p>A thinly covered book about magical Asian insects fluttered out from a well-hidden corner of the shelf, and flew into his hand, opened on the right page.</p><p>“Granger, I can’t believe you platonically love me! I must say, I do prefer dinner beforehand, but I will absolutely accept this confession- “</p><p>Hermiones cheeks flushed and with a hot face, she used her wand to send several books from the shelf falling over him, interrupting his awful gloating.</p><p>“It’s platonic, you idiot. Barely friendship, not even deep. And anyway, I see a few pink ones there, too.”</p><p>She gestured towards the aquarium, which glowed pink and orange. Malfoys teasing ceased with the thin set of his lips, and he snapped the book shut, setting it down on his desk as he rubbed his neck.</p><p>“These things are stupid, anyway”, he drawled, and Hermione barely suppressed a chuckle at his boyish behaviour. Orange for collegiality and pink for platonic relationships – not even unconditional or affectionate, which signified the kind of deep friendship she shared with Harry or Ginny.</p><p>“Anyway. McLaggen, huh?”</p><p>The topic change was greeted with a groan. Ever since Hermione and Ron had broken up two years ago, Cormac had revived old, mushy feelings from school times and repeatedly tried to get Hermione to go out with him and his colleagues. For years now, Malfoy had been watching her plight with glee, without offering just a smidge of assistance. Cormac invited her out for drinks almost weekly, and never seemed to get the hint.</p><p>“You know, perhaps I’ll go. Just to humour him”, Malfoy droned on. Hermione sent him her steeliest, deathly glare.</p><p>“Don’t you dare. Making fun of him will not make it easier.”</p><p>Cormac had an annoying habit of stopping by their office several times a week and delivering some kind of made up important file just to make googly eyes at Hermione, and Malfoy looked like he wanted to puke out his lunch every time. It was even worse when she wasn’t there apparently; too embarrassed to state the real reason he’d stopped by, McLaggen would involve Malfoy in awkward small talk with long stretches of silence in between.</p><p>“You could just tell him to his face that he hasn’t a chance, instead of dragging the poor lad along. As a fellow lady’s chaser, no, as a fellow human, I really feel his plight, you know- “</p><p>“Oh, do tell Malfoy, you feel his plight? Are you saying that you’d wanna have a drink with me, too?”, she interrupted him, words tumbling from her lips before she could think about it. A hot surge of embarrassment flushed to her cheeks, shutting her up.</p><p>She half expected him to laugh dismissively and say something to the effect of “too much brains”, like he’d done in the past, but this time he merely raised a ridiculing eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips.</p><p>“Say, Granger, is that what you secretly wish for? For me to ask you out, instead of McLaggen?”</p><p>He was leaning forward, hands firmly planted on the surface of his desk, eyes gleaming with dirty implications. The grin on his lips was downright infuriating, and Hermione somehow felt even hotter under his gaze, stunned at how quick he had flipped the tables.</p><p>“Don’t twist my words, Malfoy, you know that’s not what I was saying”, she snapped, standing up with such force that her chair squeaked desperately.</p><p>The room was suddenly smoulderingly warm, and Hermione could not bear this ridiculous conversation any further. He always did this, taunting and jabbing, until she barked back, just as childishly.</p><p>It was laughable how easy it seemed for him to get under her skin. Hermione would have hated it much more, if it weren’t for the fact that half the time, it was him who left their office just as angered and sore.</p><p>She fled their office fuming, accompanied by his boisterous laughter echoing behind her. The door flew closed with a bang.</p><p> </p><p>Despite the fact that Hermione and Ginny were sat in a lovely café with buzzing clientele, music playing from radios and loud conversations carried around them, there was a stiff silence between them as Hermione hacked at her Greek salad, lost in her memories of their fight yesterday that still made her grind her teeth. Ginny watched her, a worried crease in her forehead.</p><p>“Hermione, I know he’s a prat, but there’s no reason to abuse your salad.”</p><p>Just then the witch realized the ferocity with which she held her fork, and how violently she had jabbed it into her salad. The fork clattered to the plate as she dropped it with a sigh.</p><p>“He’s just- just- “, Hermione struggled for words, her mind empty with ravaging anger and frustration.</p><p>“An insufferable, prissy bitch. Tell me what happened.”</p><p>Ginny laid her hand over Hermiones’ comfortingly, encouraging her with a smile.</p><p>“It’s not even that he’s so awful- “</p><p>“Did you accidentally flirt with him again?”, Ginny intercepted, and Hermione groaned audibly, pulling her hands away to bury her face in them.</p><p>“It just keeps happening!”, she muffled, and Ginny chuckled.</p><p>“You two are a piece of work, honestly.”</p><p>Hermione looked at her friend sheepishly. Then, she shook her head and straightened up, lifting her cutlery from where she’d dropped it.</p><p>“It’s just – we lost another case to the Department of Mysteries, and it’s just getting so frustrating. This is the second one just this month, they just take more and more! And every time we lose another day or week worth of work, he becomes even more dreadful!”</p><p>Ginny listened to the witches’ rant thoughtfully, nodding now and then. Then, she frowned.</p><p>“Another time travel case again?”</p><p>“Yes. This time it was a long extinct dragon. The egg could only have been obtained by travelling over 500 years, and every case that even just hints at the possibility of time travel having been used has to be handed over.”</p><p>To keep from ranting even more, Hermione stuffed her mouth with a forkful of salad.</p><p>“It’s been a lot lately, don’t you think?”, Ginny mused, a thoughtful finger tapping against her chin. Hermione nodded slowly; she kept saying that the dom took more and more from them lately, but just then did she realize how many there really had been. At this point, a good fifth of their cases were at some point compromised by some kind of time or space oddity.</p><p>Hermione would have to investigate this later.</p><p>“Enough about me. How’s the planning going?”, Hermione asked, changing the topic to something less dreary. Ginny lit up instantly, perching up like a volt of electricity had woke her.</p><p>Harry had finally popped the question, after five years of waiting. At no point had anyone doubted that the Potter-Weasley union was going to happen, yet Harry had held out long enough for most people to forget they weren’t even engaged yet, just to do it in secrecy without reporters and tabloids ripping the new-found union apart. Ginny had been positively glowing for months now, neck-deep in wedding plans, yet somehow never too busy to have lunch with Hermione at least once a week.</p><p>As Ginny carried on about flower arrangements and colour schemes, bridesmaid dresses and table setups, Hermione could not keep her mind from numbing to the incessant talking and wandering away to work. As was their routine, they had ignored their fight yesterday after Hermione returned from lunch and just this morning, they had gotten in another case from an escaped Demiguise in a German warehouse. Hermione did not worry about it too much. Demiguises were easy to lure in.</p><p>No, the Demiguise case was not bothering her. It was the curiosity of their increasingly dwindling cases lately.</p><p>Hermione shoved the remnants of her salad into her mouth and tried her best to all chew it without any of it falling out. Ginny interrupted her ranting.</p><p>“Are you done?”, she asked, eyes wide, and Hermione nodded.</p><p>“Sorry, I have this really important case to take care of. I need to get back”, she replied, searching for her purse to pay for lunch. Less than a minute later, she had given Ginny a rather absent-minded goodbye and was already on her way back to work.</p><p> </p><p>Just as Hermione had organized the dozens of labelled notes onto the cleared pinboard opposite their wall lined with aquariums, the office door opened behind her. She waited for a noise, a grunt, a question or perhaps just a sigh, but as she organized the notes into a timeline, the door closed silently, and footsteps approached behind her.</p><p>“What’s all this?”</p><p>Miraculously, he did not seem annoyed, a common occurrence after lunchbreaks he spent outside their office. He blamed it on “all these people trying to talk and chatter like I could give a shit”.</p><p>“I realized that the amount of cases the dom has taken from us is bordering on hazardous. There is no way they have experts with our knowledge in their department who can possibly take care of all the cases we’ve had to give them, and I found out from Harry that the majority of law departments are losing more of their cases, too.”</p><p>Hermione turned around to Malfoy discarding of his coat and leaning against his desk, studying the pinboard with what she could possibly consider mild interest.</p><p>“So you’re gonna do what exactly now?”, he asked slowly, as if to mock her entire thought process. Hermione rolled her eyes.</p><p>“I’m conducting a timeline, as well as considering the reasons why they’ve taken the cases. Whenever a case includes time travel, the jumps have been getting larger and larger. Remember the first case we had to hand over, three years ago?”</p><p>Malfoy nodded and crossed his arms, squinting at Hermione as she wrung her sweaty hands.</p><p>“That case we worked with Harry, with that smuggler who used Kappas to get rid of his competition, and it turned out to be a certain breed that went extinct 40 years ago”, she breathed, talking faster and faster, words tumbling out of her mouth. He nodded again.</p><p>She turned and pointed at the notes she had pinned up.</p><p>“The Kappa case only required a time jump of 40 years, which is already pretty much impossible to do with a regular time turner. The Sharpclaw case required a jump of 500 years. The amount of years that have to have been travelled for each case increased with almost every case- “</p><p>“It might just be that these criminals figured out a way to jump further through time”, Malfoy interrupted, and Hermione shook her head furiously, getting heated.</p><p>“No, that’s impossible. They have to be using time turners because those are small, handy, and easy to use. Time turners cannot make jumps this big.”</p><p>“Then how do they do it?”</p><p>Hermione threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “I don’t know! The only machines that can make such large jumps are so easy to miscalculate and make mistakes, plus the materials needed to build them are high-classified, almost impossible to obtain, even for high-ranking ministry workers. There is absolutely no way some petty criminals are doing 500-year jumps without…”</p><p>She trailed off, unsure how to finish her sentence. Without what?</p><p>“Without help, you mean?”, Malfoy finished. He stood up and closed the distance, reading everything Hermione had pinned onto the board carefully. She nodded, unsure.</p><p>“They have to be getting help. Or- “</p><p>The words stopped again, and Malfoy quirked a questioning eyebrow as he turned to face her. Hermione swallowed. Why was it so important to her that he believe her? Why was the pit in her stomach so awfully deep all of a sudden?</p><p>“Or, since it seems like the dom is covering up all of these cases, it could be a possibility that they are in on it.”</p><p>Malfoy considered her words, a serious crease deepening between his brows. For a moment, Hermione wondered if all of this was just stupid, if there was no reason to believe there to be anything bigger going on, and if Malfoy would just laugh, turn away, ignore everything she’d said and carry on his work like before.</p><p>Despite their clashing… everything, Hermione quietly admitted that they worked disturbingly well together. He preferred the action part of their work, actually being in contact, fighting and sometimes eliminating magical threats, while Hermione was fond of the paperwork. They divided the workload evenly, all while never underestimating the others ability or skills. With Malfoy, Hermione always knew that he understood whatever she said, that he would always consider her train of thought and then add his own, while never putting her progress down – only if he didn’t agree with it. And he never had a bad reason not to agree with her.</p><p>This was likely the reason why their superiors had refused to partner them up differently; because aside all of their fighting and bitching, once they calmed down and came to their senses, they worked together like a well-oiled machine.</p><p>In that sense, it really shouldn’t surprise Hermione that she cared such an awful amount what he thought of her latest discovery. It still caught her off-guard sometimes.</p><p>Malfoy did not answer right away; the room filled with white jungle noise as he studied the board closely. Hermione wiped her sweaty palms on her pants, to no avail. Her heart was beating fast; not only for his inevitable judgement, but also because she truly felt that she was onto something here.</p><p>Then, finally.</p><p>“So, the Department of Mysteries is corrupt.”</p><p>“It seems so.”</p><p>Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose, crossing one arm across his front.</p><p>“It’s not like this is surprising, because Radnott is shady as all bloody hell”, he mumbled, turning his head to rub his forehead.</p><p>“What do you wanna do about it, Granger? Were just… faucet workers. There’s no way we could actually change anything”, he continued.</p><p>“Who says we couldn’t? We’ve worked here for years. I realized just now what’s actually happening, how high are the possibilities that others even remotely noticed this? Most people don’t even care when they have to hand over their cases, you know that! Whenever we complained about it, nothing happened! We’re the only ones who bloody care enough about our work to notice what’s actually happening!”</p><p>Her voice rose higher and higher as she ranted on, and Hermione started walking in long strides from one wall to the other, balled fists hanging limply at her side. All of the injustices of years’ worth of work were becoming clear in front of her, like a dam had broken.</p><p>“The only reason we have to hand over the cases is so they can cover up their dirty work! I bet you everything in my vault, if we try and find out anything about our lost cases, there will be no conclusion! They won’t have followed up on any of it!”</p><p>She was shouting now, her cheeks rising with heat and her hair frizzing out of its once elegantly coordinated bun.</p><p>Malfoy had moved around, now perched on his desk again as he watched her outburst, lips pursed thoughtfully.</p><p>“But what do you want to do then?”, he asked after her breathing finally calmed down. Hermione stood rooted to the spot, unsure of what to say. Exposing them was the obvious answer, but how so?</p><p>“We need to collect evidence. Prove that Rabnott is wilfully ignoring cases, in her favour.”</p><p>“We?”</p><p>Hermione was offended.</p><p>“Oh, do pray tell, is the Demiguise so much more interesting than corruption inside the Ministry?”, she snapped, and Malfoy rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Fine. But, how do we prove this? I’ve never heard of such restrictions on time travelling. As far as I know, as long as you illegally procure some way to travel through time, the number of years, decades or centuries jumped don’t matter. How do you know for sure that 500 years are impossible to travel?”</p><p>Hermione pressed her lips into a fine line. All she knew about time traveling was from her third year, and McGonagall had made her promise never to tell anyone about what she knew about time travel. The practice was largely unknown to the public, any documentation harshly restricted. Most people knew that it was possible, but dangerous, high risks and the like. Time turners were a rarity; they usually only existed within the confines of a controlled environment.</p><p>Of course, Malfoy would pick up on the one inconsistency of her argument. Hell would freeze over before she told him how she lived through her third year of school.</p><p>“I just know. I’ve… had some experience with time turners- “</p><p>Malfoy opened his mouth in protest, but Hermione held up a hand to stop him.</p><p>“That’s not what matters right now, Malfoy. Even if criminals could make such jumps, there’s still the issue with the increasing rate of time traveling being detected by ministry workers, and the fact that our cases never get finished- “</p><p>“How do you know they’re not finishing the cases?”, he interrupted with a sharp voice. Hermione opened and closed her mouth like a fish, searching for words.</p><p>“I- I don’t know yet. I was just about to go to the library to ask for some of these records. The Kappa case was fairly basic, there is no reason why it shouldn’t be accessible.”</p><p>Malfoy crossed his arms again, leaning forward as he faced the carpet, pondering what she said. Hermione fiddled with a loose thread in the hem of her shirt; he was impossible to read in moments like these, when they were presented a case and neither had yet found a general consensus on what to do next, on what judgment to hail.</p><p>Either he was going to help her, or he’d ignore whatever plot she had concocted, and leave her to fence with it alone. And with growing horror, Hermione realized that he was the only person she trusted with this now. He was a flirtatious, arrogant prat, but also the only person who met her at eye level whenever they encountered unknown issues.</p><p>An impossibly smart, witty prat he was; though Hermione would never admit that to his face.</p><p>Finally, he raised his head, and his grey eyes met hers. Hermione’s breathing stopped. Then, he turned to pick up his coat.</p><p>“Let’s go.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Die Neugefundenen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As it turned out, trying to expose corruptions in the workplace entailed just as much studying endless case files as moderately exciting sneaking around. Her wild days at Hogwarts had left a rather sweet aftertaste for Hermione; it had been far too long since she could do anything truly forbidden.</p><p>Hushing around the castle’s halls, hidden under the Invisibility Cloak with the threat of authority in the form of Filch and other teachers hanging over her head as she did everything to help Harry with whatever crazy thing he had to do now; those days were long gone, but the thrill of it all had left a blank spot in Hermione’s mind, one she hadn’t noticed was yearning to be filled.</p><p>She did just that by checking out files with Malfoy and after working them for two days, she realized that it actually wasn’t the best idea to collect evidence against a highly protected Department within the realms of the Ministry itself, and after long consideration, she had offered to move everything to her apartment instead.</p><p>The thought of Draco Malfoy in her personal space was not a thrilling one for sure, but Hermione had no idea if he still lived at the Manor, and she did not want to risk asking him and then doing it there.</p><p>For about a week, everything went swimmingly, exactly how Hermione loved to break rules: With a considerate amount of hushing and shushing while working and reading intensely, the files and cases they could go through seemingly endless. As it turned out, none of their cases had ever received a satisfying conclusion of the investigation, proving Hermione’s theories right.</p><p>It was somewhat surprising that the perfect partner in crime for this rather repetitive work was Malfoy, who seemed to enjoy it just as much as her, something Hermione could not have imagined during her old hijinks during school. Harry and Ron were never the type to research and study for anything at all, no matter the context.</p><p>Hermione had procured a new pinboard that was permanently propped up in her living room, though magically concealed whenever she left for work. On there, they collected all the possible evidence they’d found: recurring names of advisors the department had recruited they had never heard of before, cases that had never been finished and possible connections between some of them.</p><p>The centerpieces were names like Kurt Tinguely, Jean Phalle and several more, aggressively European names that stood out from various cases in which they were mentioned in passing but in different contexts: As advisors, informants and the like. They were just few names, but a start.</p><p>It was a Tuesday afternoon, five pm: They finished their daily tasks quickly now, only going on physical mission if absolutely necessary, to clock out as soon as possible.</p><p>Today had been a particularly slow day so far; from all the cases Hermione had gone through, none had offered up any interesting information, only the same, dry, repetitive procedures of investigating petty crimes that had eventually turned up a connection to space or time travel.</p><p>Malfoy was on his third cup of Earl Grey, laying on his back with a case held above his face, so close it was almost touching his nose as his eyes struggled to keep open. The fire behind Hermione’s armchair was crackling and sizzling quietly, and the sky outside the window was slowly turning into a dark blue night.</p><p>They jumped at a crackling sound from the fireplace. A Floo call.</p><p>Hermione sprung up, tiptoeing over to her fireplace as Malfoy shuffled behind her, sitting up, completely awake now. Her heart was beating furiously.</p><p>“Hermione? Are you there? I tried to Floo over, but your connection is closed. Hermione?”</p><p>It was Harry, a reflection of his face shimmering in the flames, features enhanced and disappearing as the flames licked. Hermione released a sigh. “Fucking Potter”, Malfoy whispered behind her, completely unnerved. She ignored him.</p><p>“Yes, Harry, what’s up?”; she called, crouching down to eye level in front of the simmering fire and her best friends’ face hovering inside.</p><p>“Oh, there you are! I thought perhaps you weren’t home. I was trying to fetch you from your office, but you’d left already. Malfoy too, weirdly. Anyway, are you free right now? We haven’t hung out in ages.”</p><p>A loud snort came from the couch and Hermione glared at a red-faced Malfoy over her shoulder.</p><p>“Oh… Harry, I’m sorry, but I’m really busy right now. Maybe another time?”</p><p>Flame-Harry frowned.</p><p>“But you left work early, why would you still be busy then? Doesn’t that mean you’re all done with work?”, he asked. Profanities crossed her mind as another suppressed chuckle rang through the room.</p><p>“Are you laughing? Hermione, what’s going on?”, Harry carried on before Hermione could form an answer, and the chuckling behind her turned into barely muffled, boisterous laughter.</p><p>“I’m sorry Harry, I really can’t right now. I just took some work home, I’m still busy, just not at work. See you later, okay?”, she sputtered, ignoring the confused noises coming from her friend, and she waved her wand to end the call. The laughing behind her basically exploded and Hermione whipped around furiously to face Malfoy laying on her couch, breathless and red-faced.</p><p>“The wonder boy really’s not an investigative genius, is he?”, he coughed, gasping for air. Hermione’s obligatory anger dwindled, and she cracked a small smile. Malfoy sat up, wiping his face, a broad smile etched into his cheeks.</p><p>Admittedly, right now Hermione was a bit glad at how dense Harry could be sometimes. The fact that both of them continuously left early at pretty much the same time could suggest uncouth activities, more so, affairs to their co-workers.</p><p>“Just shut up and work”, she mumbled as she sat down in her favourite armchair and pretended to read, carefully hiding her sheepish smile in her coffee mug.</p><p> </p><p>Days later, Hermione had come to the realization that for the first time ever, they were starting to get along. She couldn’t have pinpointed the exact point in time when it happened, but a week after the disastrous Floo call with Harry, as she poured another Earl Grey for him and Lavender tea for herself, and as she heard him definitely not nuzzling Crookshanks down the hall, she realized that they had barely fought since the start of their rogue mission.</p><p>There wasn’t even any accidental flirting.</p><p>Hermione was lost in the reflection of her boiler as she poured the water, stunned by the realization. It had only taken them what, 14 years? A sense of celebration warmed her chest.</p><p>He gaze wandered to the food delivery pamphlets pinned to her fridge as she put down the scorching water, and without another thought, she clutched a bunch of them under her shoulder and returned to the living room, mugs in either hand.</p><p>Crookshanks jumped down from where Draco was sat just as Hermione entered and he turned towards her, reaching for the new mug with a mumbled thanks. As Hermione sat down her own, she looked at the mess around them; they had been at it for at least three hours now, and her mind was growing numb.</p><p>She grabbed the food pamphlets and turned to show them to Draco.</p><p>“I’m gonna order food, I’m starving. What do you want?”, she asked, throwing him the pile, and he caught most of them with a seeker’s reflex. He looked down at the bunch of papers and then up again, as if he didn’t even know what she was talking about.</p><p>Which, as Hermione realized, he might actually not.</p><p>“It’s how muggles get restaurant food at home. You choose what you want, we call the restaurant and tell them the order and my address, and they deliver it to my door. That Greek place is really good”, she explained, pointing at the one on top.</p><p>Draco nodded, still somewhat confused, as he sifted through the different restaurants and Hermione sat down, waving her wand to organize and clean her living room. Then, she turned to a small cabinet next to her fireplace, where she kept most of her barely touched alcohol.</p><p>“I’ve got some fire whiskey, care for some?”, she asked, picking up a bottle of Snake Juice Gin Luna had gifted her years ago.</p><p>“My dear, Granger, if I’m not mistaken, it almost sounds like you’re trying to make a date out of this”, Draco drawled, but there was a lighter tone to his voice; not the usual mocking one creepily reminiscent of their school days, but a genuinely amused one. Like for once, she was in on the joke.</p><p>“Yes, of course. All of this was just a ruse to get you drunk and willing in my living room. There’s not even any corruption in the ministry”, Hermione cooed back with a grin, and Draco chuckled.</p><p>Only half an hour later after Draco had already thrown back two glasses of fire whiskey and tried  a bit of the Snake juice gin – which made him heave and hiss like a snake for a solid 30 seconds, much to Hermione’s delight – the doorbell rang with the Greek food they’d ordered. There was a tired but peaceful atmosphere, accompanied by the crackling fire as they ate in silence, sometimes reminiscing about long lost anecdotes and stories from Hogwarts. The matter of their relationship or more so the lack of one, remained blissfully unmentioned.</p><p>“And after that, we kind of decided that surviving a troll’s attack is good enough of a reason to become friends. Ron was awfully apologetic back then, since he was the reason I was vulnerable in the first place”, Hermione finished. Draco pushed around bits of meat in his aluminium pan, eyes fixed onto the movement.</p><p>“If you don’t mind me asking, are you still friends?”, he asked then, his voice so unexpectedly earnest. Hermione almost choked on the bit of bread she had just bitten into, and she coughed as she forced herself to swallow.</p><p>Ron had broken up with her six months after Draco and her had started working together, during the worst of their constant fighting phase. Hermione had come to the office that day, clearly swollen and red from a night of crying, but pretended that everything was alright. Draco had been surprisingly tame, and after lunch – when he had likely heard from their co-workers what had happened while Hermione had stayed hidden in the office – he came back with a bagged chocolate muffin from the ministry’s cafeteria, her favourite one.</p><p>He had handed it to her, clearly avoiding eye contact and mumbled “Weasley’s always been an idiot” before walking back to his desk to pretend like nothing had ever happened. It had been the first time in six months that Hermione considered the possibility that Draco might actually hide a good person inside all of that layered sarcasm, outbursts, insufferable flirting and arrogance.</p><p>As Hermione looked up at him now, he didn’t shy away anymore, his pale grey eyes intense as they bored into hers.</p><p>She averted her gaze, staring at Crookshanks rolled up beside him.</p><p>“We still talk of course, when we all hang out together, because of Ginny, and he still works with Harry…”, she hesitated, but the slight effect of the numbing alcohol compelled her to keep talking.</p><p>“…we’re not the friends we used to be. I don’t mind it that much, to be honest”, she mumbled, stabbing at her salad, still feeling his eyes boring into the top of her head. Despite the crackling fireplace, it was far too silent.</p><p>“I’ll never stand the Weasel, but I see how he was a safe choice at the time, I guess”, Draco said after a while. Hermione nodded.</p><p>She didn’t want to get into the details of why they broke up right there and then because it was Ron’s literal arch-nemesis she was getting cozy with. Maybe another time.</p><p>“How are your parents?”, she disrupted the new stretch of silence, and Draco released a haughty chuckle. It was the first question that came to her mind, and if it hadn’t been for the two glasses of whiskey, Hermione would not have asked.</p><p>“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”</p><p>“Why not? We’ve been to war. I can assure you, I’ve heard worse.”</p><p>Draco nodded at her words, angling the glass of whiskey towards his mouth.</p><p>“My failure of a father is rotting away at home, because he’s not allowed to use magic. Council decided”, he added, after he noticed Hermione’s confused expression.</p><p>Hermione wasn’t baffled at Lucius Malfoy being restricted from the use of magic; she had read his punishment years ago in the newspaper, long before Draco even came to the faucet department.</p><p>She was stunned hearing Draco honestly talk about his parents.</p><p>“He spent his five years in Azkaban and now wanders the Manor day and night, mumbling insanities like a madman. No wand, he can only ask the house elves to get him anything he wants”, he continued.</p><p>Hermione nodded blankly.</p><p>“And your mother?”, she added, hesitant. Draco sighed.</p><p>“She insists on taking care of him, Merlin knows he doesn’t deserve it. I’m still trying to get her to move to France to have some peaceful years at least.”</p><p>“Wait, don’t you still live at the Manor?”, Hermione asked, the alcohol faster than her mind.</p><p>“Merlin no, I moved out of there years ago. I don’t live far from here; in the wizard district in Soho, actually.”</p><p>Hermione nodded, mute at the new information. All these years of working together and she just now realized how little she knew about Draco’s actual life. The revelation ignited a pang in her chest, but she couldn’t quite tell where it came from or what it meant.</p><p>“You know what I always thought?”, Hermione mumbled then, and Draco hummed.</p><p>“If it weren’t for your mother the world might look a lot different today”, she ended with a whisper, eyes fixed onto Crookshanks tail whipping back and forth.</p><p>“Yes, it might.”</p><p>Draco took a long sip.</p><p>“From what’s written in the history books though, Potter might not even have gotten so far if it hadn’t been for you and your preparations.”</p><p>Hermione’s eyes flickered to meet his as her lips parted into a stunned O, surprised by so much of what he’d just said; the fact that he had read the history books describing how her time hiding with Harry and Ron during the war was spent, that he had cared enough to do so, and that he had somehow come to the conclusion many had missed.</p><p>She was the last person to complain about not getting enough recognition; in fact, she got far more than she wanted. Despite her many nicknames of the golden girl and brightest witch of her age, her preparations and charms that had saved the trio several times over the years, especially during the war, slipped most people’s minds.</p><p>Hermione had learned not to care too much about the vapid things people told her; what an inspiration she was, what a role model, all things she couldn’t care less for. She wanted to be treated like a normal human being, not like a superhuman that had been handed everything; that was how most people looked at her.</p><p>Hermione worked hard for everything she had. True recognition of that was a rarity nowadays.</p><p>“Still. Without Narcissa, Harry would have died then and there”, Hermione whispered, her mind still reeling.</p><p>He merely shrugged.</p><p>“You know what I always thought?”</p><p>Hermione tilted her head.</p><p>“You were way too smart to hang out with Potter and Weasley.”</p><p>He threw back his glass of fire whiskey and reached for the bottle on the table to refill it.</p><p>“You forget I’m just book-smart. I’m basically useless at coming up with anything in the moment of danger. That’s where Harry shines; he can think on his feet”, she lamented. Draco took another sip, a broad grin etched into his face.</p><p>“No defence for the Weasel, I see.”</p><p>Hermione bit back a smile.</p><p>“He’s a good strategist. You don’t wanna play chess against him, trust me. Remember first year?”</p><p>Draco groaned.</p><p>“Merlin, don’t remind me. I never forgave that old bugger for taking the house cup away from us. I don’t care what Longbottom did, we worked so hard for all of those points”, he whined, and Hermione laughed.</p><p>“Yes, in hindsight, Dumbledore might have had some favouritism- “</p><p>“Some?”</p><p>“- and I also never got over him cancelling all exams in second year. I studied so much!”, she exclaimed, and Draco laughed again.</p><p>They fell silent once more, watching as Crookshanks woke up just to lick his paws and clean his fur. The food was long cold, and Hermione abandoned the last rest of her salad.</p><p>“Hermione…”, Draco started, and she was alerted at his use of her given name. She waited intently as he turned to face her.</p><p>“…I understand you don’t want to tell me everything, but I need to know what you know about time turners.”</p><p>Hermione deflated immediately. Draco gestured at the cleaned-up piles of research around them.</p><p>“This whole thing is insane enough as it is, but I’m just going off of what you told me about time travel. I have no proof this couldn’t actually just be a coincidence, that these criminals are doing it on their own and the dom is just doing bad work.”</p><p>She sighed when he looked back at her, so earnest in wanting clarity. Suddenly, she couldn’t remember why she hadn’t told him in the first place. She fiddled with a loose thread in the cushion under her right hand, pondering how she should approach the truth. There was no question in her mind that she could trust him now.</p><p>“Remember third year?”, she began.</p><p>“When you punched me in the nose? Vividly.”</p><p>She smiled. “I mean, when we started taking electives.”</p><p>Draco stayed silent for a moment, confused at what she was getting at.</p><p>“Merlin, I remember. You somehow took every single subject possible, or at least that’s what people said. I told them all it was insane. I mean, there’s now way you could have taken like, three subjects at the same time- “</p><p>It seemed that the realization hit him like the Hogwarts express because suddenly his face lit up, and Hermione couldn’t help but be in wonder at how little time it took him to figure it out. After all, Ron and Harry would have never found out if she hadn’t told them.</p><p>Hermione could now proudly and truthfully say to have stunned Draco Malfoy into silence, because right now he was sitting across from her, mouth agape, eyes large with wonder. It was such a comical sight, and so unlike what she was used from her brooding co-worker, she couldn’t help but giggle.</p><p>“They gave you a time turner?!”, he cried, and Hermione nodded, pressing her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. Draco punched the pillow beside him, scaring away Crookshanks.</p><p>“You were 13! How could they? Who!”</p><p>Hermione waved her hands to calm him down.</p><p>“I was a very responsible 13-year-old. After all, I did punch you, I stand by that. I won’t say who gave it to me- “</p><p>“-McGonagall for sure- “</p><p>“But they made me promise never to tell anyone, which is why I was hesitant to explain it to you. But that’s how I know so much about time turners, I literally used one for a year”, she finished.</p><p>“Bloody hell, I was so right for hating Gryffindors. You all got much more than you deserved”, he mumbled.</p><p>“We were pretty great, though”, Hermione quipped, and she laughed at the dirty look Draco shot her way. Tonight might have gone better than expected.</p><p> </p><p>Two more weeks passed, and it took almost no time at all until spending her afternoon with Draco in her living room, sipping tea and coffee as Crookshanks miffed around them, almost resembled normalcy. Sometimes, she would even get as comfortable to tuck in her legs under her, until she looked up to see the blonde sprawled on the couch across her, head leaning against the arm as he squinted while he read, Crookshanks beside him.</p><p>Once or twice, Hermione could have sworn she saw him petting her cat while he read, just enough for Crookshanks to start purring loudly, and every time Draco had vehemently denied it.</p><p>As time passed, Hermione was growing more confident every day, and sometimes, it was barely even distracting anymore to find him lounging on her couch. Of course, it was distracting, almost constantly.</p><p>Old prissiness and new, confusing friendly bickering or not, Malfoy was much more handsome than he could possibly make good of, and it bugged the hell out of Hermione. Ever since Ron and the few dates that were far in between, one started to become desperate. Desperate enough perhaps, to even admit to the fact that Draco’s swaggering confidence was maybe, in some realm, justified.</p><p>But Hermione prided herself on the fact that she would not fall victim to her very much deserted libido. That pride dwindled and disappeared almost every time she looked up to find the blonde stretched on her couch, damn near parading himself, shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of skin above his hipbone or a glance of collarbone, and worst of all, tussled blonde hair with hooded eyes blinking at her tiredly after hours of working.</p><p>And Hermione couldn’t even complain about her partner’s increasing attractiveness to Ginny because she knew that the redhead would merely quirk an amused eyebrow and muse if perhaps, aside from his very much apparent intelligence and wit, there could be other, clearly obvious upsides to the enigma that was Draco Malfoy. Which was to say, his overall everything. His face. Mostly his face, but also his body.</p><p>Yes, perhaps Hermione could admit to herself that it wasn’t completely wrong being attracted to an attractive person. She was just human, after all.</p><p>After all, their relationship had changed. They were barely even accidentally flirting anymore.</p><p>Just quietly working together, like a team, combining notes and sharing thoughts. One afternoon after working for two hours nonstop, Draco had abandoned his mount of files with a groan, walked over to her bookshelves and started asking her questions about the various true crime books and muggle classics she kept there, and she clearly remembered the way his lips cracked into a loop-sided smile when she summarized the plot of Pride and Prejudice, calling Darcy “an anxiety riddled puppy dog who’d let Elizabeth step on him”.</p><p>Perhaps the image of him honestly laughing had etched itself into her mind much more vividly than it should have. It was just a simple moment, a joke, a laugh. Nothing special. But still, maybe she was trying time and time again to get a laugh out of him, no matter how bad the joke. Nothing wrong with that.</p><p>Hermione told herself that every time she found him focusing on his file, brows drawn together in concentration, sometimes even mouthing along to crucial information he was reading; every time his hand roamed through his hair thoughtlessly, leaving it messy and tussled.</p><p>On another thought, perhaps she did need to talk to Ginny.</p><p> </p><p>It was yet another day of work neither could really focus on. Hermione’s concentration was not on the check-up report in front of her, but rather on information she’d read last night; turning over stone after stone in hopes of revealing a not-seen before connection. None of their current cases were essential; no wild creature roaming around in places they shouldn’t, threatening the existence of other humans or animals nearby. They had pretended to hit a slump to keep new cases from flying in; several reports were done and ready, but not handed in.</p><p>Their plan was working perfectly so far. Nobody suspected a thing, except for poor, confused old Miss Brunswick, the librarian for the ministry’s laughably poor collection of books and also keeper of all the classified files for open and closed cases. Draco and Hermione had been continuously checking out cases from her, and while the short-sighted, slow-fingered witch was glad to do so, she seemed slightly dazed every time either of them left with another arm full of reports.</p><p>The pacified atmosphere between them only ever dipped at work, when the pressure of acting normal to their colleagues got too much. Hermione found herself less annoyed with many of his habit; a rather worrying observation.</p><p>Which was proven right again when she looked up from the Swiss Pixie report to find him reclined in his seat, feet propped onto the edge of his desk with his arms stretched behind his head. Draco looked almost asleep, but his heavily hooded eyes blinked slowly towards the wall of cages every now and then. For once, she could not fault him for not working; it was part of their plan, after all.</p><p>“Could you at least pretend to work?”, she asked without much bite. Draco came to life with a groan.</p><p>“Why? Who’s gonna walk in and scold me, McGonagall?”, he drawled, stretching himself. Hermione shook her head, a small smile on her lips as she returned to read the same sentence for the fifth time.</p><p>Not being productive felt awful, really; the itching in her fingertips to do the research and scribble notes, finish her work like usual to get that spark of productivity that made her fall back in bed content every night. But she couldn’t exhaust herself with these minor cases, because more important things were waiting for her at home.</p><p>A knock at the door ripped Hermione out of her thoughts, and she looked up just as Draco called “Come in”.</p><p>Hermione frowned as he kept his feet up, obviously disinterested in whoever was visiting them. She turned towards the opening door then, smiling at the girl who entered; the one Draco had called ‘the stupid bint from two doors down’ a few days ago. She was a few doors down from their own office, that much was true; furthermore, Hermione could somewhat see where Draco’s dislike for her came from.</p><p>From what she knew, the blonde girl’s name was Milla and she was Cecil Lee’s secretary; though they rarely talked, Hermione had often heard of the girl’s incompetence. More than one essential file and complaint had been lost under her care, and Hermione could not figure out for the life of her why the witch was still employed.</p><p>She could only believe that it had to do something with her doe eyes and the blinding smile she threw at everyone in passing.</p><p>“I have a note for Mr. Malfoy.”, she blabbered, hastily searching through a batch of files and loose papers that was wedged in between her arm and waist. That wasn’t what Hermione was looking at however; her eyes were fixed onto the yellow fireflies flitting around their glass cage behind the oblivious girl. A gaping look at Draco confirmed that he had seen it too; his eyes were wide with surprise as they flickered between the aquarium and Milla.</p><p>Then, he threw down his feet and leaned forward, now at full attention. Hermione huffed, stunned as she watched him roam through his hair, giving it a messy, playful appeal, finishing it off with a charming smile.</p><p>How dare he!</p><p>“Yes, what’s that?”, he purred, his voice a few octaves lower than what Hermione usually heard from him. It sent a wave of tingles down her arm and she cursed her treacherous body.</p><p>Milla was still scrambling for whatever note she had received, her cheeks tinted a delightful pink, eyes nervously darting up to meet Draco’s inviting gaze. Hermione was fighting the urge to scream.</p><p>“Here it is”, Milla mumbled, finally retrieving it and reading it out loud with a tremor in her voice.</p><p>“Your presence is requested at the advisory meeting with a Mr. Kurt Tinguely and Mr. Armand Segal, regarding the recently closed Russian Sharpclaw case, later today at three pm.”</p><p>She stumbled forward on her higher than necessary heels, handing the paper to Draco. Hermione’s mind was running wild with her partner’s disgusting behaviour and the information she had just heard.</p><p>“Well, thank you so much for bringing that over, Milla”, Draco crooned, and he winked blatantly. Milla was completely red, dangerously similar to the complexion of a tomato, when she stumbled out of the office. The door shut tight behind her closed and finally, the quill in Hermione’s hand cracked.</p><p>“How dare you, you foul little – “, Hermione began shrieking immediately as she jumped up, threateningly pointing the broken quill at the blonde across the room. His charming demeanour had disappeared immediately; his feet had returned to his desk already and he raised a taunting eyebrow at her.</p><p>“What are you so mad about now?”, he asked, and Hermione huffed, too angry to procure words. He shook his head, brows drawn as he stared at her, bewildered at her reaction.</p><p>Hermione raised her arms as if to spout another row of insult, but yet again, she was lost for words. How dare he use the fireflies against that poor girl, just to play with her, it was absolutely loathsome to exploit-</p><p>“Merlin, Granger, don’t get your knickers in a twist because I flirted a little with that knucklehead.”</p><p>The bored tone of his voice made Hermione’s head explode. How could they ever get along when he behaved so… like his old self? Hadn’t he become a new person?</p><p>“That’s not a reason to exploit her feelings and flirt with her, you swot! Don’t give her hope if you’re not even serious about it!”, she spat, her hands balled to fists at her sides.</p><p>Draco waved a dismissive hand.</p><p>“She had a crush on McLaggen just last week. How serious can it be? I’m just having fun, Granger, and I barely think she’d mind. And either way, I think that meeting is more important now, anyway.”</p><p>Hermione gaped at his change of topic, speechless. She couldn’t believe how he’d rationalized the situation, and how tame it seemed now. It really was just flirting, wasn’t it? But still, he had abused the knowledge the fireflies had given him. It was a loathsome act.</p><p>“This is a great chance to find out who that Tinguely guy is, perhaps I can strike up conversation and… Merlin help me, Granger, have you never witnessed someone flirting in your life before?”, Draco jeered when he looked up to find Hermione with her arms crossed, lips set in a thin line, positively fuming.</p><p>“You will go to that meeting, talk to Tinguely, and the fireflies are gone from today on”, she seethed.</p><p>Draco rolled his eyes, tipped his head back and groaned.</p><p> </p><p>“We are not going to Zurich for some random bloody art thing, Hermione!”</p><p>The volume of Draco’s voice had gotten louder and louder, and it was now booming through the room. Hermione sighed.</p><p>“If you’ve got a better idea, tell me. This is the only thing I could come up with”, she said, her voice as calm as she could muster up. Draco threw his arms in the air, exasperated, before he turned around to face her fireplace, placing his hands on his hips. Hermione crossed the room to their pinboard, where she had lain out her thought process in detail.</p><p>“We’ve hit a slump, Draco, this is normal. I know this idea is somewhat crazy, but it does make sense!”</p><p>“Sense?! You have made some questionable calls over the years, but this is the furthest you’ve ever reached!”, he bellowed. Hermione flushed red.</p><p>“You know that’s not true! And you know it’s the only thing left to do! It can’t hurt to do it, no?”, she snapped. Draco ignored her words, burying his face in his hands.</p><p>Hermione turned back to the board, squinting. Yes, some of her conclusions might lack a sense of syllogism, but she thought it was all rather sound. Better than anything else they had now, anyway.</p><p>A week ago, Draco had attended the meeting with Rabnott and Tinguely, who, as it turned out, was not even present. He had been unable to attend for personal health reasons, apparently. What had been apparent though, was the lack of follow-through; as with most of these hearings, no new information was given except for what faucet had found already and an expression of gratitude for uncovering the unusual circumstances of the dragon.</p><p>Draco’s presence had been entirely non-essential, so the only explanation they could come up with was that Rabnott was trying to keep a close eye on them, which was proven right when she, as he had recounted verbatim, told him to “stop searching for mistakes made in the past and rather work towards a better future”.</p><p>It had been her finishing statement for the meeting, but he insisted that she was giving him a death glare all while she said it.</p><p>This had excited Hermione for numerous reasons; firstly, it was apparent that they were onto something, and secondly, Rabnott had lain her cards bare by inviting Draco and basically telling him to stop looking through old files.</p><p>Draco refused to see it as positively as Hermione did, though; he insisted that Rabnott’s warning had been just that; if they didn’t stop making their progress so obvious, they would soon face backlash from the Department of Mysteries and perhaps even being forced out of their positions; perhaps even out of the Ministry entirely.</p><p>Hermione thought those worries were ridiculous. They were too far-fetched; there was no way they could be bullied out of their jobs only for doing some research. If they were ever asked, they could just say that they were digitalizing the cases. Nobody would ever try and inquire more about such a heavily muggle-coded word and its meaning.</p><p>Draco, of course, disagreed.</p><p>“We have no proof that this random fucking Tinguely guy in Switzerland of all places is the same one”, Draco said after staring into her fireplace for a while.</p><p>“It’s the same first name too, though. Tinguely is a rare name Draco, he’s the only Tinguely I could find anywhere, except for the art one.”</p><p>“That’s one thing, but to go visit a random fucking art exhibition just because he’s the head of that art group? What’s it called, ‘Die Neugefundenen’? What good will that do?”, he continued, turning around to face her. All frustration was gone; exhaustion was etched into the creases around his eyes. Hermione bit her lip.</p><p>“I don’t know Draco, but it’s better than nothing. You know we won’t have an issue getting a portkey, and it’ll only be one night. Do you have any other suggestions for what we could do?”</p><p>Draco frowned and pursed his lips in thought. After a few seconds, he opened his mouth again.</p><p>“Under what pretenses could we go? What if it’s an invite only thing? We don’t know anything about art”, he said, speaking quicker with each question as they rained down onto Hermione.</p><p>“We'll pretend to be art enthusiasts. It’s not an invite only thing. And, I know this is a wild thing I’m about to tell you, but there’s a thing called books and research, and if you combine those two, we could learn some stuff about art and just play pretend- “</p><p>Draco groaned, falling down onto her couch as he buried his face in his hands. Hermione crossed her arms across her chest, watching his still form.</p><p>Yet again, it was that moment of uncertainty before he took a decision; the anxiety before he made the choice to keep going with her or to retreat in favour of his own conclusion. Hermione fiddled with the hem of her shirt.</p><p>“When?”, he asked, his voice muffled with unwilling compliance. Hermione breathed with relief.</p><p>“This Saturday”, she answered. Draco put his chin on his fist, elbow on his knee, watching the flames in her fireplace dance.</p><p>“Three days”, he mumbled. Hermione nodded.</p><p>He looked up at her, the fire’s warm shimmer dancing in his grey eyes.</p><p>“Let’s do this, then.”</p><p> </p><p>Preparation for the exhibition called “Die Helden Dadas: Marcel Duchamp und Kurt Schwitters” reminded Hermione of studying for tests back in Hogwarts: For three days straight, she crunched art books about the Dada movement and several artists connected to it, and on Thursday afternoon while they were still lounging at the office, Hermione made a discovery that made her swell with schadenfreude.</p><p>“Draco, do you remember when you told me about how the exhibition has absolutely no connection to our Tinguely or any other illegal activity?”, she asked innocently, looking up. Draco’s nose was buried in a book about different Phoenixes from that last millennia, and he gave her a blank stare.</p><p>“Yes, and I still stand by it”, he replied. Hermione walked over to his desk and slapped down a book, opening it to the right page.</p><p>“The Fountain by Marcel Duchamp, lost shortly after its initial exhibition in 1917, is a revolutionary landmark for the art of the 20th century”, she quoted. Malfoy leaned forward to read the sentence she pointed at and then looked up slowly, eyebrows raised as if questioning her sanity.</p><p>“…And?”, he asked. She leaned forward with a smug smile. Close enough to smell an oaky cologne.</p><p>“This same sculpture is advertised as making its first appearance in more than 80 years at our exhibition”, she drawled, watching with pleasure as he closed his eyes, his face a blank slate, jaw tensed as he considered her words.</p><p>“Fine. You may have had a point”, he hissed then, and opened his eyes again, mild annoyance in the way he curled his nose.</p><p>Just then, Hermione realised how close she was to him, how their noses were almost touching and how the smell of his cologne was actually making it difficult to form a clear thought.</p><p>With the last bit of her mind still in the right place, Hermione grabbed the book, stood up straight and strutted back to her desk.</p><p>“Perhaps consider trusting me more.”</p><p>“Whatever.”</p><p>Hermione sat down and their eyes met; Draco was frowning, as if he was surprised how she was suddenly at her desk again.</p><p>“Food for thought.”</p><p>And with that, she went back to studying.</p><p> </p><p>It was Saturday morning, and Hermione was pacing her living room anxiously, walking from her favourite armchair to the entryway to her kitchen and back, balling up and loosening the fabric of her shirt under her fist. She glanced at the clock every now and then.</p><p>Then, with an exasperated sigh, she came to a stop in the middle of the room, looking around.</p><p>Weeks of research had been hidden away; the pinboard was gone, stashed into her hallway closet. On the short-legged table in front of the couch lay a notebook full with notes and information for tonight’s mission. Next to the couch was the aquarium with the fireflies.</p><p>She had prepared herself best she could, but there was one thing left that bugged her relentlessly, and the mere fact that this juvenile issue was occupying her as much as it was, was frustrating in and of itself.</p><p>Finally, her fireplace came alive as it roared, and Hermione whipped around to watch her best friend emerge from the blue flames, clothes covered in soot and ashes.</p><p>“Oh Merlin Ginny, thank you so much”, she blabbered and threw herself around the short-sighted redhead who gingerly hugged her bag.</p><p>“Hermione, what’s happening? You seem… not yourself”, she said after looking the frantic witch up and down. Hermione wrung her hands and walked around to the back of the room.</p><p>“I think I- “, she started, but the heat from her neck rose to her cheeks and muted her. She pressed the back of her hands against her face, closing her eyes as she mouthed the words she was trying to force out.</p><p>“What? Hermione, are you okay?”, Ginny’s voice grew closer and a hand on her shoulder turned Hermione around, who was hiding her face from her friend.</p><p>Through parted fingers, she glanced at the young witch, the confused crease between her brows reassuring her just a bit.</p><p>“I think I have a crush on Draco”, she whispered quickly and closed her eyes again.</p><p>There was a bit of silence that hung heavy above Hermione’s head, her gut clenching as she awaited her friend’s response.</p><p>“You what?”</p><p>Hermione’s eyes shot open at the wheezing sounds across from her and she gaped in shock. Ginny was flushed, but not the same way Hermione was; she was holding back laughter, evident from the hand she had pressed over her mouth.</p><p>“Ginny!”, Hermione shrieked, aghast at her friend’s reaction. How could she laugh at her in a situation like this?</p><p>“Got any other old news?”, Ginny pressed out before she turned away, laughing loudly.</p><p>“Ginny, stop it! This is serious!”, she yelped, walking around to face the witch. Ginny gave her the kind of look she remembered from her mother when a nine-year-old Hermione asked where babies came from.</p><p>“ ’Mione, I can’t believe it took you so long to find out, honestly. I’m glad you did, though”, she said in a more serious tone, almost laughing only twice.</p><p>“What do you mean, old news?! This is super new, I can prove it!”, Hermione said, not realizing that this really wasn’t a priority right now.</p><p>“How?”, Ginny, asked, still very much amused. Hermione pointed towards the aquarium.</p><p>“Those fireflies change colour according to how you feel about a person when you say their name. Until this morning, they always turned orange and pink for collegiality and friendship when I said his name, but I was on a Floo call with him earlier, and they turned yellow, which stands for playful love. Basically, a crush.”</p><p>The words tumbled out of Hermione’s mouth too fast for her to grasp, and the last bit turned into a jumble of sounds and letters. Ginny’s eyes were fixed onto the aquarium, the same fascination in them that Draco had shown the first time he’d asked about the colour yellow.</p><p>“Harry”, Ginny said. The aquarium turned a deep red, and Ginny nodded approvingly.</p><p>“Don’t you see? This is new. How is this old news?”, Hermione babbled on, almost wanting to tug on her friends’ sleeve tirelessly. Ginny shrugged and sat down onto the couch; Hermione joined her.</p><p>“I don’t know, it’s lately just the way you talk about him.”</p><p>She held up a finger. “First off, you’ve been calling him Draco for a while now, and you refused to do that for the past 14 years.”</p><p>Hermione flushed red at the realization. Another finger shot up.</p><p>“Secondly, you acted insane about that flirting thing with that secretary a few days ago. Really, it wasn’t that big a deal.”</p><p>Hermione pressed her lips into a fine line. Another finger.</p><p>“And lastly, you two have had a weird chemistry for years. Why do you think you’ve been accidentally flirting with him? Why-”</p><p>“Alright, I’ve got it. Got it. Thank you”, Hermione interrupted her, her head hung low as she rubbed her eyes. This was too much.</p><p>The couch creaked as Ginny leaned forward, patting Hermione’s shoulder.</p><p>“It’s okay, Hermione. I don’t think a single witch in London could blame you.”</p><p>At that, Hermione chuckled, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster she’d been on since this morning.</p><p>“We’ve been working together much more lately because of a really intense case, and I don’t know, at some point, we started getting along. And just yesterday I was teasing him, and I could smell his cologne and I almost lost my mind- “”</p><p>Ginny nodded understandingly. Hermione’s heart was pumping at all the wild memories of them laughing together, talking like friends, not colleagues, in this very room.</p><p>“What did you call him about, anyway?”, Ginny asked after some silence. Hermione sighed.</p><p>“We have to go undercover to an art exhibition in Zurich tonight, and we were just hashing out the last details. It’s a vernissage, the first opening night, so we have to dress all fancy”, Hermione mumbled. Then, realization hit her.</p><p>“Ginny, he’ll come in a suit! Oh Merlin, I’ll never survive”; she moaned, falling back onto the couch arm, hiding her heated cheeks. She felt like a fourth year again, when Krum had just asked her out, juvenile feelings exploding in her small, teenage mind.</p><p>Ginn gave a boisterous laugh. “Dear, he’s got you bad, hasn’t he?”, she giggled, and Hermione kicked her thigh with another desperate shriek. The redhead clapped on her ankle and then stood up.</p><p>“Well then, let’s find a dress that will knock him right off his feet.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i hope u enjoyed, please leave kudos or a comment if u liked it!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Sybill Rabnott</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The dress was nothing less than what Ginny had promised</p><p>It was a deep, midnight shade of blue; it used to be a simple, knee-length dress that she sometimes wore for tea with her parents. With an array of transfiguring charms that Ginny was a master of, it had been turned into a flowy, shimmery skirt that reached her ankles, sometimes changing to a deep purple depending on how the light hit it. The bodice was snug around her waist and displayed a modest, but still suggestive décolleté. Paired with the high heels in the same colour that Hermione was not sure she could walk around in all evening.</p><p>It was absolutely gorgeous. It was yet another proof of Ginny’s keen eye for fashion, because Hermione was certain that there were not enough books about the topic she could possibly study, that could have given her the tools to create something even remotely as stunning. Paired with a pinned-up hairdo that only released a few strands of her curls to frame her face and a modest amount of makeup, Hermione had not felt like this since the Yule Ball.</p><p>She liked the clothes she worse usually, however plain they may be. They made her feel confident, but in a different way; this was exquisite, for a special occasion, the kind of get up that made her jittery with anticipation.</p><p>It was excitement. Not only for how tonight’s exhibition could help their investigation, or with whom she was going; it was the unmistakable sensation of feeling desirable.</p><p>Yet again, Hermione was pacing around her living room, reminding herself not to wipe her wet palms on the front of the dress while clutching a small hand carry in her other; of course, its interior was magically enhanced. Her heart was beating furiously.</p><p>Draco was going to arrive at any moment with the portkeys he had picked up this morning, and they were going to arrive 15 minutes after the opening, in the hopes that there would be enough people for them to not stand out too much, if it was in fact, a more selective event. Then, with the Invisibility Cloak Hermione had gotten from Ginny, they’d sneak away as soon as they got the opportunity, and try to find out about the inner goings of the group.</p><p>Hermione looked up at the clock right as the fireplace wooshed to announce a visitor, and she turned to see Draco swagger out of her fireplace as if he was just walking through Diagon Alley. Her heart stopped.</p><p>She had seen him in suits before, of course; he wore them exclusively during their sixth year at Hogwarts, and even more recently, being the only faucet workers in the ministry, they had attended a fair share of events that required a more classy dress code. Her latest change in feelings definitely made her see him differently.</p><p>It was a classical black suit, sharp and well fitted. It punctuated his lean seeker-build he had grown into; at 16, he’d seemed like a boy stuck in a suit that wore him rather than the other way around.</p><p>He was definitely wearing the suit now; the rich fabric was cut to precision, bold across his shoulders with gentle lines around the waist, accentuating the incomplete V formed by the two rows of buttons on his chest. The clean-cut look was finished off by a deep green lining. Surprisingly, he had decided not to go for the slicked back style she remembered from his early years at Hogwarts: His hair was skilfully tousled, precise in the way it was just slightly messed up; making it obvious that he cared for his appearance, but just not too much.</p><p>Hermione swallowed hard as she tried not to look him up and down again.</p><p>“You look nice”, she mumbled, and she snapped her eyes down to her purse to check for the dozenth time if everything was there.</p><p>“Likewise”, he said blankly, and when she looked up, she caught his eyes roaming over her length. The hairs on her exposed arm rose with a shudder.</p><p>“Ready?”, she asked, and he nodded almost surprised, as if he’d forgotten what they were dressed up for. He retrieved a cloth-covered object from the breast pocket of his suit and offered his arm to her in gentleman-like fashion. Draco had picked up the portkeys earlier; they were pretending to check in on the Swiss Moon Hyenas.</p><p>With a last shared look and a nod, he uncurled the cloth and a well-used key chain in the form of the Eiffel tower plopped into her outstretched palm, and as a hook behind her navel jerked her forwards, Hermione felt her feet leave the ground. She clasped onto Draco’s arm and they lifted out of her living room; suddenly, they fell into a lively pub, surrounded by drunk tenants, deafening conversation, music, and the unmistakable smell of cigarettes and alcohol.</p><p>“Where the hell are we?”, Hermione shouted as she leaned towards Draco, and she saw his mouth move but the words barely reached her. Realizing that it really was too loud for explanations, he rolled his eyes and tugged her through the crowd until they stumbled out of the pub into the cold night.</p><p>“This was the only spot they could send us to without raising too much suspicion. It’s a wizard pub”, he explained then. Hermione nodded somewhat unfocused, looking at their surroundings. They were in a narrow cobble-stoned alleyway, houses towering high above them on either side. Each side of the way was lined with shops and restaurants, stacked chairs in front and black shop-windows. Behind them, the door to the pub had shrunk into a dark niche, easily missed by muggles passing by.</p><p>The street was empty except for them, and for a second, Hermione was lost. She had no idea where they were.</p><p>“What’s a weinladen?”, Draco asked then, and Hermione followed his gaze to a large sign above a shop opposite from them.</p><p>“Something with wine, probably. Come on”, she said, unwinding her arm from his and discreetly pulling out a magical map of the heart of Zurich. Immediately, they could see where they stood, and a fine, glowing blue line indicated the way they had to walk to the Cabaret Voltaire, where the vernissage was being held. It was just down the street.</p><p>“This way”, she ordered, walking past Draco as she stuffed away the map. His leather shoes clacked on the stone as he hurried after her.</p><p>“So let me guess, you didn’t do an ounce of research?”, she asked as they trudged down the pathway, closer to a source of light at the very end, faint voices echoing and bouncing across the walls towards them.</p><p>“I did, a bit. It wasn’t too interesting.”</p><p>“Well, I found out that aside from the fountain, they also claimed to have found something called a Merzbau by Kurt Schwitters, which has been lost since it’s destruction during World War Two. I think they’ve charmed all of their advertisements to not alert any serious art historians and the police, because they’re a pretty big deal.”</p><p>“So, they just retrieve lost art to make a profit”, Draco added. Hermione nodded.</p><p>“What are our names this evening?”, she asked, glancing at the wizard. He was looking up at the cloudless, black sky above.</p><p>“Depends on who we’re posing as. Surely not locals, unless you’ve suddenly started speaking German.”</p><p>Hermione sighed. They usually hashed out this kind of stuff beforehand, but this morning after seeing the yellow fireflies, she had instantly ended their Floo call so she wouldn’t melt into a puddle of messy emotions right in front of him.</p><p>“Fine then, we’re… art enthusiasts from the suburbs of London on a vacation in Zurich, and we simply had to come visit this one in a lifetime opportunity. Our names are Denise and Jackson.”</p><p>“Alright. Are that fountain and… mercy bau? -“</p><p>“-Merzbau-“</p><p>“Whatever, are they the center pieces of the exhibition?”, he finished. Hermione nodded.</p><p>When they arrived at the blinding shop that said “Cabaret Voltaire” above the window, they found that the vernissage was in full swing already; Through the window, there was an apparent mass of people inside, talking and chattering in groups. They were not overdressed, Hermione noted with relief, and after Draco cast a wandless Confundus so the door guard wouldn’t take down their name, they pushed through the narrow door.</p><p>Hermione instinctively grabbed his outstretched arm, and she was glad for the heels that offered her enough height to glance over the head of the crowd. The entry room stretched into several more rooms into the back, somewhat divided by white walls and large doorways.</p><p>In the middle of the next room over, she saw the centerpiece of the exhibition: The urinal titled “The fountain”, signed ‘R.Mutt’. People were gathering around it, pointing fingers, faces alight with fascination, whispering with shrill voices plump with excitement.</p><p>“A bloody urinal? Modern art is horrible”, Draco mumbled as they pressed past groups of people, deeper into the building. In passing, she saw him grab a champagne glass from a server in a tux, and if she hadn’t stood so wobbly on her heels, she would have slapped his shoulder.</p><p>The urinal room was suffocating, the mass growing bigger and thicker, and soon enough they had passed into the next room, considerably emptier. The walls were lined with simple geometrical pieces that hung down above their heads and stuck out of the walls themselves; her eyes were wildly flitting around trying to figure out the mess of shapes, corners and angles. It was a confusing sight, and all of the information she had learned about the Merzbau was now swimming in her head, splashing around and making any other thoughts difficult with the noise behind them.</p><p>Finally, there was enough space for people to stand apart several metres, and few groups of three to four people stood around, talking in a language she didn’t understand.</p><p>When she looked over, her mouth fell open as Draco had already finished his first glass.</p><p>“Draco!”, she hissed, jerking her elbow into his side. He was staring at the Merzbau with a distasteful expression.</p><p>“Sod off, if I have to mingle and act interested, I need this”, he muttered. Hermione curled her nose but chose to ignore her partners behaviour for the time being, glancing around to see if there were any restricted hallways or inconspicuous doors that were not to be sought out by visitors.</p><p>Her eyes got stuck on a man across the room, and when their eyes met, he glanced away, then back, away again, and then started approaching.</p><p>Hermione’s fingers curled tightly around Draco’s arms and he turned to see the attention they had attracted.</p><p>The man was older than them; Hermione could tell by the wrinkles around his eyes and the effortless poise with which he carried himself. He quite reminded her of Draco; he had a similar build, also blonde, with a bit of an arrogant swagger. But the suit was ill-fitted, flaring out around his chest where it should lay snug, and his hair was a shabby, dirty blonde, much different than Draco’s platinum.</p><p>“Guten Abend! Ich entschuldige mich für meine Neugier, ich dachte, nur Stammkunden würden heute hier sein. Ich hab‘ euch noch nie vorher gesehen. Mein Name ist Bernd Schneider, und ihr?“, the man said in a smooth voice, and he held out his hand when he finished. His eyes roamed over the pair, and Hermione shivered when he glanced her up and down, an action that had not bothered her one bit earlier when Draco had done it.</p><p>Hermione was stunned into silence, completely swamped with the wave of foreign words and beady eyes. When she peeked at Draco, he seemed not the least bit less confused. The man’s hand was still floating in the air between them.</p><p>Silence.</p><p>“Excuse me?”, Draco asked then. The man’s eyes grew round.</p><p>“Oh dear, I’m sorry!”, he blabbered with a German accent. “I had no idea. I said, I’ve never seen you here before, and I believe I’d remember a pair as pretty as you two.”</p><p>He winked at Hermione and she grew stiff.</p><p>“My name is Bernd Schneider. And you are?”, he finished, stretching out his hand again. And suddenly, Draco’s arm was wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to his side, and before she knew it, the oaky smell of his cologne made it hard to think.</p><p>She turned her face to shoot him a questioning look. He wasn’t looking at her; his eyes were fixed on Bernd.</p><p>“My name’s Jackson Finnigan, this is my girlfriend, Denise”, Draco answered in his chipper, sociable voice she rarely ever heard, and he shook the man’s hand. Bernd’s shoulders sacked a bit as his eyes flitted between them.</p><p>“We’re on vacation here and well, we couldn’t have possibly missed the opportunity to see all this-“, Draco continued with a most charming smile, and he gestured to the Merzbau around them.</p><p>“…Merzbau”, Hermione finished in a daze. The feeling of Draco’s hand splayed on her waist and her shoulder pressed into his side was quite a lot for her senses right now.</p><p>“Yes, exactly. Merzbau”, Draco said. Bernd’s eyes twinkled, and he nodded enthusiastically.</p><p>“It’s great, isn’t it? I’ve been fascinated with the Dadaists for years, and when I joined the Neugefundenen, it was like returning to an old family”, he babbled on, and Hermione interrupted before he could continue.</p><p>“The Neugefundenen?”, she asked innocently. Of course, she knew the name already.</p><p>“Die Neugefundenen! They’re just art enthusiasts like you and me, but they’ve made it their goal to honour and retrieve the revolutionary pieces by Duchamp, Schwitters, Hausmann, Ball and the like. It’s incredible how they found the fountain! Have you seen it yet?”, he continued, already tugging on Hermione’s arm to pull them back into the urinal room. She pulled back at the same time that Draco did.</p><p>“No, that’s fine, we already saw it”, she smiled, and Bernd stopped walking, reciprocating her smile. Once again, the way he looked at her ignited a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.</p><p>“This group sounds really interesting, I don’t know, perhaps something we’d join?”, Draco carried on, and at the least part he moved Hermione to face him and she played along, nodding enthusiastically.</p><p>“Yes, absolutely! Tell us, whose idea was all of this?”, she continued seamlessly. Bernd was positively vibrating with excitement.</p><p>“Oh, it was all Kurt’s idea! Kurt Tinguely, I take you’ve heard of his cousin, Jean? The kinetic artist? Just a genius. Well, Kurt founded the Neugefundenen about a decade ago, and well, we just meet every now and then to exchange our art and ideas, just like Hugo Ball and Emmy Hennings used to!”, Bernd gushed, and Hermione couldn’t help but start to feel a bit overwhelmed with the energy he was exuding.</p><p>At least they could be sure that he was not part of the criminal core of the group. He seemed to be more of a padding; genuine art enthusiasts who unknowingly served to camouflage the illegal activities. Hermione doubted if he was even a wizard.</p><p>“Tinguely? I love his art. The way he made movement an audible and visible experience is just incredibly. I appreciate his Meta-Matics most, though; they truly questioned what makes art what it is”, Draco said, and Hermione turned her head, gawking.</p><p>He had actually done his research this time. Mountains could be moved after all.</p><p>Bernd was jumping in place.</p><p>“Oh yes, that’s so wundervoll! The new realism movement was just brilliant! The way Klein revolutionized the use of colour in art is just- “</p><p>“Who would we need to talk to join the Neugefundenen? Is Kurt here tonight, perhaps?”, Hermione interrupted him, smiling sweetly. Bernd didn’t even seem to mind, but then he frowned.</p><p>“Oh no, I’m quite sorry, he isn’t here tonight. You see, he’s so busy with so many other responsibilities, handling Jean’s works, organizing events and the like, he’d never be here- But let me introduce you to my friends, Helene und Lukas! They just joined a few months ago, they’re much like you two- “, he continued as he tugged them towards a group of four further back in the room.</p><p>“We need a distraction”, Draco whispered, suddenly leaning down close to her ear and Hermione jumped at his hot breath ghosting over her cheek. She nodded, frantically looking around for an escape, but coming up empty.</p><p>They spent their next five minutes mingling, Draco’s hand on her hip getting stiffer by the minute. She could tell he loathed the small talk, but she knew that there would be an out soon. Instead she kept talking and saying anything she remembered; the young couple, the two older men and Bernd were listening to her every word. Every time a server passed with a plate of champagne, Draco took another glass.</p><p>“Well and you know, the sound poetry as Hugo performed it just simply revolutionized the use of language and its purpose for communication, just stripping it from what it’s supposed to signify- “</p><p>Hermione’s talking was interrupted by a loud clinking from the fountain room and several calls of “Ruhe!”. Bernd perked up at the sound, and Hermione heard a very quiet sigh that sounded like “Fucking finally”.</p><p>“They’re giving a speech! Come on”, he shrieked and started jogging towards the room. The other groups of people started gravitating towards the opening, where the crowd was dying down and a loud voice started talking in German.</p><p>Without as much as a shared glance, Hermione and Draco grew back into the room as he let her go, until they were hidden from view, scanning their surroundings. Hermione opened her purse, feeling around for the cloak, when Draco tugged at her free wrist and he nodded towards the white wall next to a large pillar with a bicycle wheel perched on top. It was a well-hidden opening in the visual mess of shapes, easy to miss but possible to find if one knew it was there. As they lurked into the dark hallway, a paper sign that said “Toiletten” with an arrow pointing down was just barely visible.</p><p>They hurried, passing the bathrooms and turned the corner to be faced with a door. It opened without a hitch, and they hushed inside another black hallway, closing the door behind them.</p><p>“Lumos”, Draco whispered, and the hallway filled with bright light as it stretched out in front of them, two doors on either side of them, before it turned to the right.</p><p>“Where’s the cloak?”, Draco asked, opening one door to peek in. Hermione realised then, still searching for the cloak, that she had left it at home. Hot embarrassment crept up her neck.</p><p>“I forgot it”, she admitted, and the look on Draco’s face was nothing if not pure exhaustion. They had to make do.</p><p>After discovering a makeshift kitchen and a closet filled to the brim with old exhibition pieces, they followed the hallway to the right, where a long corridor with at least half a dozen doors extended into the depths of the building.</p><p>Their respective heels clicked loud on the tiled floor as they made to check each room, but Hermione soon discovered that one of them at the far end was locked; not even the most difficult unlocking spells were doing her any favours tonight.</p><p>“This is just another closet”, Draco mumbled from behind her as he moved up to the next door. Hermione looked over her shoulder towards him.</p><p>“Come here for a moment. I can’t open this.”</p><p>Draco turned and approached her with a furrowed brow.</p><p>“See.”</p><p>She performed several unlocking charms, but none of them made the door budge.</p><p>“Wait, I think I know what spell that is- “, he began, but the sound of the door they had entered through around the corner opening made them flinch. Instantly, Draco’s Lumos disappeared, but there was a weak motion light above their heads that threw more shadows than light along the walls.</p><p>“Was zur Hölle?”, they heard a voice say, and Hermione looked at Draco, wide-eyed, frozen. Not a single spell that could help them came to her, her beating heart had wiped her mind clean. Judging from Draco’s horrified eyes, he was experiencing the same black out. She could just barely make out his face in the red light from above.</p><p>Hermione’s mind couldn’t focus; the pounding in her chest, the rushing in her ears was too prevalent. And then, through the rioting sensations and wild thoughts, one idea sprung out, blinding her.</p><p>Without an ounce of self-preservation, she turned towards Draco.</p><p>“Kiss me.”</p><p>“What?!”, he hissed, jarred, eyes wide with disbelief. For a moment, it seemed as though he had almost forgotten the person around the corner.</p><p>“Just pretend to”, she whispered. The footsteps grew closer. On instinct, she grabbed his tie and yanked it down, and when his mouth slanted over hers awkwardly, her mind shut down.</p><p>For a moment they stood both frozen, eyes closed, when Draco finally caught on. His arm wrapped around her waist, pressing their bodies flush together and he turned slightly to push her back against the wall. The impending footsteps stopped and as Hermione’s hands fluttered to rest on his shoulders, unsure of what to do or how to handle the tingling sensations exploding everywhere he was touching her, she couldn’t help but sigh and melt into his hold.</p><p>Then, slowly, his lips moved to catch her bottom lip between his and Hermione wasn’t sure where she was anymore or why they were kissing. All she knew was she wanted him closer, more of the way his warm body felt against hers, how his cologne smelled, how he held her and how exclusively vivid she felt in his arms.</p><p>Instinctively, her hands roamed through his hair, the soft, silky strands gliding between her fingers. She arched into him as his hand on her back pressed through her dress as if it were a mere second skin; she could feel every single touch of his.</p><p>She kissed him back, lost in him, his faint champagne taste, the stubble on his cheek moving against her skin, pressing her lips onto his over and over. His palm cupped her face and she immediately softened into his hold.</p><p>A small sound jumped out of the back of her throat when his fingers pressed into her cheek, tilting her head lightly, and the kiss deepened indefinitely when their lips parted. His tongue pushed in and pinned her against the wall as she completely surrendered to whatever glorious things he was doing to her mouth.</p><p>It seemed as though Hermione’s chest opened, and she tasted every flavour, saw every colour, completely overwhelmed in the way she could breathe in the whole of what Draco was; a cool inhalation of oxygen that warmed her insides.</p><p>And for a moment, nothing in the world existed but the kiss Draco was giving her. There was no taste but champagne and faint mint, no noise but wet lips clashing against each other, no smell but oaky cologne, no feeling but soft hair dancing between her fingers.</p><p>She released a sigh when his lips moved to the corner of her mouth, trailing a hot path down to her jaw and the column of her neck. Hermione arched into him again, yearning for his touch, opening her eyes.</p><p>Then she was pulled back to the reality where they were still in a half-dark hallway in Zurich, and Hermione found that whoever had walked in on them had disappeared. And while Draco’s teeth grazed the top of her collarbone, his tongue drawing a scorching, memorable path, her hands came to rest on his shoulders.</p><p>“I think… I think he’s gone”, she breathed, and like a switch flipped, Draco seemed to realized just then what activity they had gotten lost in. He stumbled back, startled, rising to come to eye level with her.</p><p>They stared at each other for a few seconds, tentatively, unsure, as they caught their breath again. Smudges of her lipstick were smeared around his swollen lips and his cheeks were flushed. They were close enough for Hermione to still feel his panting breath ghosting over her face.</p><p>“Good… quick thinking”, he coughed, roaming through his hair to press it back into place, and Hermione’s eyes got caught on his red, swollen lips moving as he talked.</p><p>“Yes, I… Yes. Thank you”, she exhaled, and he nodded, turning away, towards the door. Hermione couldn’t tear her eyes from the sight of his heaving chest, still catching his breath, and she barely registered the spell he stuttered several times before the door swung open.</p><p>Right, Hermione thought over her still pounding heart, they were here to uncover illegal activities, find connections to Rabnott. That’s what they were here for.</p><p>There was an actual light switch and it flickered on to reveal a cramped office that resembled what Hermione would imagine a crazy person’s mind to look like if visualized. A barely discernible desk was hidden under mountains of binders, files, opened and unopened packages. Cabinets lined the walls, open with more objects towering inside and out of it. Every single chair was covered in piles of obscure and vague looking objects that Hermione couldn’t identify, no matter how long she looked. The entire room was like a visual heart attack, topped by a vibrating in the air that was unmistakeably magical.</p><p>As they carefully moved into the middle of the room, using what little space there was on the floor, Hermione started poking around the piles and heaps in search for anything she recognized, but it was impossible. She felt blind with the pounding in her chest; all her mind was screaming at her was the feeling of his hands on her body, his lips on her skin, his tongue in her mouth. It took all of her might to pull every last ounce of restraint together to keep her mind straight. Years of handling Draco’s moods came in handy now; at 20, she would have melted into a puddle right then and there.</p><p>But Hermione was stronger than that and while she blacked out the person driving her mad just moving about mere metres away, she blinked a few times until she could see her surroundings clearly again. Then, she started moving, like she hadn’t just prevented a major meltdown.</p><p>When she reached the desk, she ignored everything that was lain on the surface but started to open and close drawers.</p><p>Various random gadgets and toy-like items filled the drawers to the brim, even the bottom one, and Hermione yanked it all out and threw it onto the floor. She recognized old desks like these, similar to the one in her father’s library; she remembered bouncing on his legs as a six-year-old while her father showed her all the funny gimmicks old desks often had.</p><p>She soon discovered few hidden compartments within the depths of the drawers, but they were empty, except for a thick layer of dust. Frustration started building in her chest and Hermione felt herself becoming impatient with every passing minute.</p><p>“Find anything?” she called out.</p><p>Draco stood still in front of an armchair in the corner. He turned sideways to point at the bits and pieces of something that might be supposed to look like a machine, once someone correctly coordinated every single part of it.</p><p>“This has an odd air of magic. Perhaps a form of time travel you mentioned.”</p><p>Hermione nodded and with a wave of her wand, she levitated her hand-carry into Draco’s hand, and he started murmuring “Geminio” over and over, leaving the copies and stuffing the originals into her purse.</p><p>She took another look around, catching her breath and beating heart, wondering what else they could find here. The final nail in Rabnott’s coffin could be found anywhere it seemed. The truth had never been closer.</p><p>Which was, until voices in the distance became audible, getting louder as they bounced off the walls, their volume rising every second.</p><p>Someone was about to find them. Hermione turned around on the spot, her eyes desperately scanning the room. Time was running out; there was nothing more they could take from this room.</p><p>“Draco, stop it! We have more than enough!”, Hermione squeaked, lifting her legs high to quickly step over and around the piles of nonsense surrounding them; the high heels were not of help. Draco was hastily finishing the last few spells, stuffing his arm up to his shoulder into her bag to make it all fit and rumbles of squeaky mechanics erupted from the small opening of the purse.</p><p>“Yes, wait, just- “, he gave another huff as his face crunched up in pain; his arm had gotten stuck somewhere inside. The voices were directly in the hallway outside and Hermione jumped, a shiver of panic running up and down her body.</p><p>“Where’s the portkey!”, she hissed as Draco tumbled, trying to loosen whatever had trapped his arm.</p><p>“Breast-pocket”, he breathed heavily, his shoulder jerking repeatedly.</p><p>“Wo sind sie?!”, someone outside called. “Hier drin!”, another voice answered, and it sounded like a door further down the hall had been blasted from its hinges.</p><p>Hermione’s fingers trembled as she patted down the front of Draco’s jacket, fumbling to find the pocket, pulling out a cloth-covered item. It almost fell out of her hand as another blast directly opposite of the office shook the walls.</p><p>“Hier!”</p><p>Draco wrapped his free arm around Hermione just as the door to the office cracked with the force of a spell and for split-second, she heard nothing but yelling and pounding of footsteps closing in, until her fingers opened and an old battery fell into her palm. Shots of green and red light darted into the room blindly, just barely missing them.</p><p>“Hermione!”, Draco yelled, his shrill voice slicing through the air, his panic palpable.</p><p>“Wir haben sie- “</p><p>Those were the last words she heard, a faceless person reaching out to grasp her arm, Draco shaking at her side with whatever his arm was enduring inside her purse, and then a hook sank into the flesh behind her navel and she was jerked upward, out of the office, through a tight tube that spit her out in her quiet living room, where the fire was still burning.</p><p>Crookshanks jumped wide awake as the pair ungracefully tumbled onto the living room floor in a heap of limbs and groans of unprepared space travel.</p><p>“Bloody- “, Draco groaned from somewhere underneath Hermione’s left leg. Her head was whirring and swirling, a nasty taste in the back of her throat that tasted like bile and her heart pounded furiously, the calls of angry Swiss men still ringing in her ear.</p><p>The distant sound of metallic clattering and crunching, bouncing off the vast walls of the hall in her purse chased Crookshanks out of the room.</p><p>“Finally”, Draco grunted and Hermione pushed one of his legs off of her arm and rolled over the carpet to be faced with the aquarium, the fireflies glowing in a variety of colours they adapted to when no one had said a name in a while. For a moment, she felt like she might throw up, the bile rising to stick to the roof of her mouth.</p><p>Draco sat up behind her, massaging his shoulder where it had cut off into the purse; his arm was finally free, the purse laying discarded under the coffee table.</p><p>They breathed heavily into the silence, calming down from all that had happened in less than an hour. Hermione stared at the carpet, gathering her stray thoughts; she was entirely overwhelmed.</p><p>Hermione became increasingly more conscious of Draco across from her; he had opened his suit jacket and was rubbing his forehead, his once artistically tousled hair now a full-on mess, in part from her roaming through it.</p><p>Merlin, they had kissed less than ten minutes ago. His body had pinned her to the wall, his hand pressing her flush against his chest as his tongue invaded her mouth, rendering her mind a blank slate.</p><p>Hermione cleared her throat, a vain attempt to interrupt her own thoughts. Draco moved, but her eyes were pinned to where her purse had fallen, and she reached out to pick it up.</p><p>“This was a bloody disaster. You’re lucky we weren’t caught, for Merlin’s sake.”</p><p>Hermione looked up to meet his eyes. His voice was calm, but the dangerous kind. The tone she had only heard once before, when she had irrevocably messed up a month-long case because she had ignored his reasoning and insisted on doing it her way. Her way of consulting a Finnish specialist instead of blindly searching for a rogue dragon. Several people had almost gotten hurt that day.</p><p>It had been the only time she thought he would seriously stop working at faucet. His cold, dead voice as he told her the repercussions of what she had caused had haunted her for months after.</p><p>It was the kind of calm before the storm.</p><p>“But we weren’t caught. See what we got! This has to be enough evidence to go to Harry with!”</p><p>A shrill, panicked tone sliced at her vocal cords as Hermione flustered.</p><p>“This wasn’t a failure, Dra- I mean, we didn’t get hurt. They didn’t catch us. We got evidence. This isn’t so bad!”, she reasoned.</p><p>“Not that bad?! They saw our faces! They work with Rabnott, she could know about it already!”, his voice slowly morphed into the aggressive, frustrated spitting she was used from him.</p><p>Hermione’s mouth slipped open, as she watched Draco jump up, his brows knitted together, the hard lines of fury set around his features that reminded her of the angry boy she used to go to school with. He paced the length of her living room from the main door to the fireplace, where he stopped to stare into the flames.</p><p>His shoulders were set, too much so; his next words came out with less bite, but just as tense.</p><p>“If we still have our jobs tomorrow, we should count ourselves lucky. At worst, she will send someone to off us tonight.”</p><p>He turned to face her, his eyes dark, troubled, near menacing.</p><p>“I hope this was worth it”, he said, gesturing to the purse she was clutching in her lap. Hermione wanted to say something, anything, but the sound got stuck in her throat.</p><p>“I’m leaving. Perhaps I can catch a good hour’s sleep before someone breaks into my apartment with deadly poison or some shite like that.”</p><p>With that he turned around and moved toward the door with long strides.</p><p>“Draco, wait, you’re freaking out! Just calm down for- “, she called, struggling to get on her high-heeled feet, but Draco had already swung the door closed behind him and the walls vibrated with his force. Hermione stared at the door, listening to the receding footsteps. Some mental authority almost compelled her to go after him, but she didn’t.</p><p>Hermione muttered curses as she plopped onto the couch, failing to open the small latch that wrapped around her ankle, freeing her from these hell shoes.</p><p>Her eyes fell onto the bright yellow aquarium and this time, she didn’t hold back.</p><p>“Fuck!”</p><p>Her shoe crashed into the wall, the heel breaking off, but Hermione couldn’t care less. She rolled up in a ball instead, burying her face in the cushion, hoping that it might all just disappear if she acted like it long enough.</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t disappear, as Hermione soon realized; so instead of turning to chagrin, she decided to turn her energy into spite.</p><p>Spite kept her up as she pulled out every last piece of machinery, laying it out in her living room to inspect it all. Spite powered her as she tried for hours to put it together.</p><p>So when she entered their office on Monday morning, a bounce in her step that never bode well for Draco and whatever his interests were, she wasn’t surprised to find him lounging in his desk chair with his feet up on a pile of files; he was rarely ever earlier than she was. Hermione had an odd feeling that he was being just as spiteful as her.</p><p>“We’re in a good mood this Monday, aren’t we?”, he drawled. Hermione tensed at his mocking tone, but she kept walking past him to her desk, where she put down piles of research.</p><p>“For your information, we are. Your sissy fit on Saturday didn’t kill my motivation, as you might have hoped.”</p><p>“I was being realistic, is all. And don’t act like you’re not surprised they didn’t break down your door, either”, Draco answered dully.</p><p>Hermione bit her lip to refrain from spitting back, because he was right; the entire Sunday, she had been jumpy and alert at every noise, expecting a knock at her door anytime. Or perhaps even just a blast through it, no matter how often she checked the wards around her apartment.</p><p>“That’s not the point, I- shut up, that’s not the point at all. Our trip to Zurich was not worthless, as you put it-”, Hermione began.</p><p>“-Is that so?“, Draco interrupted sarcastically. Hermione took a deep breath before continuing.</p><p>“I’ve managed to partially put together the machine we took with us. It’s magical, like you said, but virtually unknown. You know what I did find, though?”, she continued, circling her desk to sit down.</p><p>“A whole bag of nothing?”</p><p>“No. Mechanisms similar to the time turner I used ten years ago. I can’t figure out how it works, but I am certain that its purpose is similar to the time turner.”</p><p>Draco said nothing; he merely watched her. Hermione noticed his closed fist hovering near his chest, a snitches weak wings flapping around from in between his fingers. It was an old snitch he kept in his desk, that he played around with exclusively when he was stressed about a case.</p><p>Good.</p><p>“And seeing how much bigger and more complex the machine is, it seems like we were right all long.”</p><p>The snitch was released, and Draco didn’t bother catching it as it whirred away, flitting around the air above their heads, and he swung down his feet, propping his elbows up on his desk as he leaned forwards.</p><p>“So, you’ve cracked the case. Now what? Call the boy who won’t die to help us out? Granger, I helped you because what they’re doing is not right. I never thought we’d get this far, and they’ve seen us. They know our faces. Rabnott might fire us at any point now. And that- “, he pointed at the pile of files she had plopped onto the edge of her desk, “- is a huge hazard. Bringing research about illegal time travel machines into the heart of the ministry? Are you trying to get killed?”</p><p>Hermione rolled her eyes as she leaned back, crossing her arms.</p><p>“This isn’t about your bloody pride, Malfoy. Harry is our best connection and if we have to go to him with his, you very well can swallow your whole jealousy schtick from Hogwarts. Also, if Rabnott really wanted us out of our jobs and silenced, she would have done so already.”</p><p>Draco looked like a person capable of murder. Hermione continued, almost breathless.</p><p>“The worst she might do now is give us another warning, no? And this- “, she nodded towards the pile, “are cold cases we looked at for research. Nothing about the corruption itself. Do you really think I’d be stupid enough to bring that here, where anyone could find it?”</p><p>Her voice reached higher octaves the longer she spoke, and at the end, she was very short from squeaking. Her ears were burning with anger; anger towards Draco’s lack in belief in what they did, anger that all of this might have been for nothing and anger because despite everything, her treacherous heart wouldn’t stop pounding under her crossed arms as he looked directly into her eyes from across the room.</p><p>Their battle of furious staring continued for a few moments, until the snitch whirred past Draco and he caught it, without looking. Then, he leaned back and swung his feet onto his desk again.</p><p>“Suit yourself. I’m not doing this anymore.”</p><p>A pang of disappointment spread from Hermione’s chest, threatening to close her throat. She had lost her only support.</p><p>“Fine. Enjoy your cowardice”, Hermione hissed, covering up the tremble in her voice with as much malice as she could.</p><p>“Whatever”, Draco bit back, but it didn’t sound as angry as it used to.</p><p>Right as they startled to settle into an angry silence, a rap on the door, two quick knocks, made both of them flinch. Hermione jumped up straighter than before; Draco released his snitch.</p><p>The door creaked open without either of them calling out.</p><p>Sybill Rabnott walked into their office, seemingly hovering above the floor as she approached a cage filled with Fwoopies. Something behind Hermiones chest hooked itself into place and pulled down; her mind became a blank slate as she sat there, floored.</p><p>Every light in the room seemed to dim with the woman’s ethereal presence; as if darkness was descending upon them. Seconds passed like minutes as Draco and Hermione watched Rabnott turn to face them.</p><p>Constellations were embedded in her long, deep-purple cloak, moving across the fabric slightly with her every movie. From the classic black heels to the collar that shot up high, dousing most of her pale face in darkness, everything about her screamed cold, deadly sophistication.</p><p>Hermione felt naked as her dark eyes looked down at her, scanning her from bottom to top, her nose curling as if she had smelt something nasty.</p><p>She spoke with a calm, clear voice.</p><p>“I heard of your mission to check after the Swiss Moon Hyenas on Saturday. I hope it went well.”</p><p>Hermione gaped. Her eyes flitted over to Draco across the room. His tensed jaw and rigid shoulders made him look like an obedient, upright doll.</p><p>Then, as if they both remembered that they were supposed to say something, Draco spoke quickly as Hermione bit her lip.</p><p>“Yes, quite. The check-up went over flawlessly.”</p><p>For what she was used from him, his voice was damn near squeaking. To outsiders, he must seem cool as a cucumber.</p><p>Rabnott gave him a look over as well and pursed her tastefully tinted lips disdainfully.</p><p>“Isn’t that nice to hear. We’ve been getting news of odd activities in Zurich over the weekend. I hope nothing happened to endanger you two.”</p><p>Hermione’s ears rushed with white noise.</p><p>“No, nothing. Everything was pretty uneventful, wasn’t it?”, she answered blankly, giving Draco a questioning look. He nodded, eyes wide.</p><p>Rabnott’s mouth curled into a vapid smile.</p><p>“I just came to stop by to congratulate the both of you for the work on the Sharpclaw case. Splendid, really.”</p><p>“Thank you”, Draco breathed. He was so pale, even for his standards, and if she weren’t so tense, Hermione might have thought could disappear into the wall behind him at any moment.</p><p>Rabnott was still smiling, her unnaturally white teeth reminding Hermione of cold, hard steel.</p><p>“We appreciate it- “, Hermione continued when the silence stretched for too long, but Rabnott held up a hand.</p><p>“Don’t mention it. I will be off now. You two almost ought to take a break from all this work. Burn-outs and the like happen quicker than you think”, she said, her voice so still and calm. Hermione didn’t process what she said fast enough to give an intelligent answer. Neither did Draco, apparently.</p><p>“Well, I’ll leave you two to it then. Goodbye”, she purred, and as silently as she had come in, she left.</p><p>Hermione’s ears were buzzing, suddenly overwhelmed again with the jungle noises from the aquariums. It seemed like Rabnott’s presence had momentarily stilled the entire office.</p><p>“<em>Muffliato</em>”, Draco said from across the room and Hermione turned to look at him. He had jumped up, marching the space between their desks up and down.</p><p>“Did you hear what she just told us?!”, he yelled then, and Hermione flinched.</p><p>His cheeks were hot red, his shoulders pulsing; she half expected smoke to burst out of his nostrils.</p><p>He came to a stop in front of her desk, gripping the edge as he leaned down, his face twisted with unfiltered anger. He was shaking with the force of trying to contain himself.</p><p>“She told us to stop doing what we’re doing! She knows we were there! She- “</p><p>“I bloody heard her, Draco, do you think I’m stupid?!”, Herrmione cried back. His mouth closed into a thin line. Hermione pushed away from her desk, away from him, and leapt out of her chair.</p><p>“I know she’s on our heels! This is not what I planned for either, you arse! You act like this is what I wanted!”, she continued, her voice reaching new, unknown heights.</p><p>“I don’t bloody care what you planned for or not, this is the reality now! She knows what we were doing! This has to stop, completely!”</p><p>Hermione turned from where she'd been pacing towards the empty firefly cage and faced Draco, perching her hands on her hips, angling her head as she stared him down.</p><p>“Stop?! This is the exact opposite of what we should be doing! We have evidence, she was scared enough to come by here and tell us herself to- “</p><p>“-We should be glad she didn’t do more than that- “, Draco interrupted, stepping closer.</p><p>“- We know we’re close, we know she’s scared, this is not the bloody time to back down, I can’t believe you- “, Hermione continued, moving forward, compelled to push him back. He stood still in front of her.</p><p>“-That is wish believe and you know it, Hermione! This is not the time to-”, he blared back and stood still as a statue as her index shoved into his front over and over again, accentuating her every word, a ridiculously childish motion that seemed absolutely appropriate now.</p><p>“- You and your Slytherin self-preservation is so ridiculous, this is the right thing to do and you know it- “</p><p>“Stop!”, Draco shouted, so loud and suddenly, Hermione’s voice got stuck before she could continue her tirade. Her hand was hovering in the air between them. Draco was positively vibrating.</p><p>“I will not let you risk your job and your life, just to expose Rabnott so soon. You have to stop this”, he said, his voice so calm yet on edge, his heavy breaths ghosting across her face with every word. Hermione swallowed heavily, fighting to stare right back.</p><p>His grey eyes, usually either blank with disinterest and boredom, or dark with fury and frustration, now hid swirling clouds of a brooding thunderstorm. There was something new in the way they shined, Hermione realized; something she hadn’t seen before.</p><p>Whatever it was, it almost seemed to hurt him. Her last defense dwindled as she took a deep breath.</p><p>He was right. Hermione didn’t like it.</p><p>She pushed her chin up high.</p><p>“Fine. I will stop. For now”, she hissed, and Draco’s eyes roamed her face, searching for a lie. She flustered when for a second, she thought that they lingered on her lips a bit too long.</p><p>“Fine”, he breathed. There was still a distasteful twitch to his eyebrows as he stepped back, and Hermione felt like she had left a bubble.</p><p>Without another word, even less a look, Draco turned and walked to his desk, grabbing his cloak.</p><p>“I need a fucking walk.”</p><p>With that, he left.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i hope u enjoyed, and if u did, please leave kudos or any thoughts in the comments!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Cormac McLaggen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On Friday afternoon, the tense, frosty atmosphere in the office had reached its peak</p><p>There were no fights anymore. No snide remarks. No jokes on behalf of the other person. They simply acted like the other wasn’t there.</p><p>It was gnawing away at Hermione’s sanity; if someone had told her a year ago that she would miss her daily quarrels with the blonde prick, she would have laughed at them, just to get genuinely worried if sickness had compelled them say such an absurdity.</p><p>Now, Hermione wasn’t certain how or why, but the lack of hostility, even of a friendly kind, made it near impossible to work with a straight mind. There was for one, the impossibility of exposing the dom on her own. She had substantial evidence now, that was for sure; the half-built machine in her living room emitted an ominous aura that made her scared to come close.</p><p>But anxieties had crept up on her like a cat pouncing on its prey; Rabnott’s visit had left Hermione rattled and paranoid. Harry was barely ever available anymore; suffocating in heaps upon heaps of Auror work and wedding preparations, she hadn’t met up with him for lunch or just a coffee in weeks. Even within the ministry halls, if she did see him, he was always on his way, sometimes even too hurried to say more than “Hullo how are you good okay gotta go bye”.</p><p>Hermione would never admit it, but the loss of Draco’s help had left her timid to pursue this mission further. He had blown all of the confidence she’d gathered away, leaving her with nothing but a half-built machine and sleepless nights.</p><p>But, she weren’t Hermione Granger if she wasn’t already working on her next plan, despite being forced to act alone: This Saturday, an event organized by their department was to be held later in the evening in the Ministry halls. It was one of many events they had no choice but to attend, and for the first time Hermione didn’t lament the cozy lecture evening lost to the grips of bureaucratic nonsense.</p><p>She had already devised her next step in finding more information, and the event was a godsent amongst this horrible week.</p><p>There was yet another matter of her stupid brain that would literally not shut up, not ever, no matter where she was or what she was doing; because if she wasn’t worrying about the potential evidence in her living room, the only other thing occupying her mind was Draco and his stupid decision to stop helping her, his stupid arrogant attitude, his stupid face and his stupid hair and his stupid lips kissing hers.</p><p>Hermione missed spending time with him, curled up on the couch in her living room, relishing in silence or talking about whatever either of them could think about. She missed looking up to find his eyebrows adorably drawn together in concentration as he read, sipping Earl Grey from her favourite mug. She missed discussing technicalities and brainstorming theories; eating take-out while drinking whiskey.</p><p>She couldn’t stop missing him, and Hermione hated it.</p><p>Hermione had not gotten a good rest since Monday, and the awfulness of her day continued when she came to the office where Draco stiffly greeted her, not even looking up to meet her eyes.</p><p>For almost a week, the only sound in their office were quills scratching over parchments and at her nerves, and the chirping of golden snidgets and Fwoopers from their respective aquariums and cages. The silence was tense; filled to the brim with fights not had.</p><p>It was no surprise then that on Friday, Hermione left ten minutes early for her lunch with Ginny, if just to escape for a short while.</p><p>After meeting up in the ministry’s entry hall and flooing to the Leaky Cauldron, they entered a sandwich shop on the other side, all while Hermione asked incessant questions about the wedding. Ginny answered absent-mindedly.</p><p>Ginny ushered Hermione to a far corner in the back, where other patrons grew scarce, and slapped the menu out of her hand right as she picked it up.</p><p>“You know the bloody colour scheme, now stop beating around the bush. No offence Hermione, but you look terrible. How has it been with him? What’s going on?”, Ginny started talking before Hermione could think of another, mindless question. Hermione sank back into the squeaky chair, burying her face in her hands.</p><p>“I have barely slept since Saturday”, she mumbled then, and looked through her fingers at the cheap plastic cover on the table, the kind that always felt a bit sticky.</p><p>“Why? Have you been up all night, shagging? Please tell me you climbed that swot like a tree- “</p><p>“Merlin, Ginny, no!”, Hermine squeaked, her cheeks growing hot as she glanced around, hoping no one had heard. Ginny seemed entirely unbothered.</p><p>“Then tell me”, she insisted.</p><p>And with a sigh, Hermione told her everything, though censored; she couldn’t risk Ginny knowing about the corruption, so she made it out to be a confidential case they were disagreeing on.</p><p>With a heavy heart and lowered voice, she even admitted her incessant, nonstop thoughts and the fact that she, Hermione Granger, did in fact, miss spending time with Draco Malfoy.</p><p>Ginny did not interrupt her once, listening intently while nodding every once in a while.</p><p>Once the words stopped tumbling out of Hermione’s mouth and she finally fell silent, her head hung low. The dark cloud that had grown over the past week surrounded her, pushing her shoulders down like a dead weight.</p><p>“I’m not gonna pretend this all doesn’t suck”, Ginny said with a dead serious expression, and Hermione couldn’t help but laugh a little, still wiping her eyes.</p><p>“-but for the record, I believe this will blow over in no time and he’s just a really awkward piece of ass that will get over himself soon enough”, she finished, and Hermione, despite the burden on her heart, burst out into giggles.</p><p>Ginny smiled at her, sweetly.</p><p>“How about some distraction? Lavender and I wanted to grab a drink later tonight, but she invited Cormac and Parvati too, so I don’t think she’ll mind if you join. I feel like you need this.”</p><p>Hermione stared at the menu discarded besides Ginny, considering the offer with a sigh.</p><p>“Cormac though…”, she lamented, and Ginny waved her hand dismissively.</p><p>“Who knows? Maybe he’ll be able to distract you”, she mused and Hermione looked up slowly, meeting the ginger’s sly eyes.</p><p>Both witches burst into laughter at once.</p><p> </p><p>40 minutes later, they walked down the halls of the ministry, laughing and chattering, and Hermione felt lighter than she had all week. Ginny was going to stop by Harry’s office so she’d insisted on accompanying her back to her office, if only just to make sure that she would make it there.</p><p>When Hermione opened the door to the office, laughing at Ginny reenacting Harry burning his hand on the stove just a few nights ago, she remembered all at once why Ginny had been a much needed break from her week.</p><p>Draco was sat at his desk, his boots nowhere in sight, actually working, and as soon as he looked up at the two witches entering the room, his brows drew together disdainfully.</p><p>“Hey, Malfoy”, Ginny chirped, entirely unbothered while Hermione trudged to her desk.</p><p>“Afternoon”, he said dryly. Hermione sat down, regarding the little work she had left for today. Thank goodness.</p><p>“Tell me Malfoy, are you always so sweet to your visitors? I’m almost melting with the candor”, Ginny continued as she plumped down into the chair by Hermione’s desk. Draco looked up for a moment, a weak sneer written across his features.</p><p>“Did you think that one up this morning? I’m truly impressed, your wit is impeccable”, he jeered. Hermione sighed. The two always fought.</p><p>“Don’t flirt with me love, I’m already taken. You’re in an awful mood, aren’t you?”</p><p>Hermione started organizing her piles wordlessly.</p><p>“Your investigative skills barely trump your fiancée’s, and that’s hardly a difficult task.”</p><p>Ginny was looking at Hermione with a scheming spark in her eyes, one she immediately recognized, and before she could intervene, the redhead spoke again.</p><p>“Well then, why don’t you join us for a drink tonight? It’s just me, Hermione, and some other old classmates”, she blurted, like Draco Malfoy joining them for drinks was an event that had ever happened before.</p><p>Hermione’s heart froze in place as she watched for Draco’s reaction. He was staring at Ginny, actually stunned at the outrageous offer. He cleared his throat after a few moments.</p><p>“I… no, I’m not free tonight. I can’t come”, he said, and Hermione’s eyebrows shot up high. She had never seen Draco anywhere near this flustered before; he wasn’t blushing like a normal person would, but for his standards, he was barely legible right now.</p><p>Ginny shrugged non-chalantly.</p><p>“Bugger. Well, I’ll be off. See you later!”, she said, waving at Hermione as she jumped up and like the whirlwind she was, she was already out of the office before Hemrione could blink twice.</p><p>Her eyes wandered to Draco’s, expecting him to look back, just as perplexed, to share a moment of mutual bewilderment.</p><p>He had already turned back to his work again.</p><p> </p><p>And when Hermione sat in the Leaky Cauldron that evening, talking without listening to her words, laughing at jokes she hadn’t heard, pretending to be on a fun night out with her friends, she could practically feel her hear shatter the moment she spotted a pale blonde head across the room.</p><p>Draco was sat with who she could recognize being his old Slytherin classmates. And when Cormac laid his arm around her and pulled her closer, she didn’t even notice it was happening.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Wait until everyone’s distracted. Sneak off and put on the cloak. Take the elevator to the ninth floor. Find the room with the doors. You’re Hermione Granger, you can do this. Wait until everyone’s distracted…</em>
</p><p>Exactly 24 hours, a sleepless night and unhinged mental repetitions of her plan to the point of cracking away at her sanity later, Hermione stood in the same dress from Zurich in the large, open office space on the fourth floor that had been cleared out. At the far end of the dark-tiled, slightly grimy room was a little stage for whoever this event was for to hold a speech later in the evening.</p><p>The entire Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was present in their nicest evening-clothing, flimsily holding champagne glasses while swaying from side to side, chattering and flirting with colleagues they’d usually never flirt with.</p><p>Hermione tended to despise these events. Men used the alcohol as an excuse to shamelessly eye her up and flirt, and there was never any productive, work-related talk going on; more so mindless chatter about trivialities and things that should in most cases, stay private.</p><p>Alcohol really shouldn’t be allowed at these events.</p><p>Tonight would be different though, which was why Hermione was barely minding the usually grotesque motions playing out around her; she had spotted Draco from across the room, still looking devastatingly handsome in an all-black, sleek suit that accentuated his tall, lean form to the point, holding idle conversations with colleagues she knew he couldn’t stand. The rigid line of his brows was so distinct, she knew that he was hating tonight more than usual.</p><p>Because usually, they would spend the evening at some table; Draco would stare anyone away who came close enough to attempt a chat and Hermione’s presence kept, as Draco put it, ‘the hyenas away’. She was not sure why, but it had always worked until now.</p><p>Until last night, when the sight of Draco’s arm around Pansy Parkinson in a booth of her favourite pub almost sent Hermione into an anxiety attack. After a night of tossing and turning, dreaming of haughty kisses along her shoulder and promises whispered against her skin, she was not sure if she could ever look at him the same again.</p><p>
  <em>You’re Hermione Granger, you can do this.</em>
</p><p>Her feelings were out of control, and Hermione absolutely needed control to keep from falling apart. She could feel the seams at the edges of her mind expand and thin out every time she saw him across the room, every time the ghost strands of soft hair slid between her fingers, every time she smelled phantom oak.</p><p>She was a smidge away from being completely unhinged, and she felt ready to burst.</p><p>
  <em>You’re Hermione Granger, you can do this.</em>
</p><p>Hermione was stood at one of the high tables, an emptied plate once filled with crab snacks in front of her, twirling an empty champagne glasses she had picked up from another table. Her eyes roamed over the room; drunk colleagues and superiors standing in circles, gesturing with half empty champagne glasses. A loud buzz of dozens of conversations filled the room to the brim.</p><p>She never saw Cormac coming.</p><p>“ ‘Mione! So good to see you here. Last night was fun, eh? You should join more often!”, the young man’s voice suddenly sounded right next to her ear, and Hermione flinched violently as she turned to face Cormac.</p><p>A shit eating grin was plastered on his handsome face and he was lightly swaying, just barely avoiding crashing into her side; instead, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. The smell of something definitely not champagne hit her face and she just barely kept from scrunching her nose.</p><p>“Hey, Cormac. I know, it really was”, she stammered, unsure what to say.</p><p>“Oh, come on! You loved it! I could tell”, he grinned, throwing her a cheeky wink. Hermione pressed her lips tightly together; his dramatic antics could sometimes be entertaining, she had to admit.</p><p>She waved her hand dismissively and laughed.</p><p>“You’re right, I did. I’ll think about joining again, okay? I definitely will”, she smiled, and Cormac’s hand fluttered to his chest as he closed his eyes, turning his face toward the ceiling.</p><p>“Thank you, Merlin, for this present. I shall cherish it every day now, for that Miss Granger has finally enjoyed a fine evening with her friends out” he spoke in a deliberate, slow tone, as if he were praying.</p><p>Perhaps it was the stress of last week or just that she was desperate for distraction, but Hermione laughed, genuinely.</p><p>Cormac opened one eye a bit, peering at her reaction with a bright smile.</p><p>Then his lips moved but Hermione heard nothing; a loud voice boomed through the room.</p><p>“Sonorus! Oh, good it worked. Hello everyone!”</p><p>Gethsemane Prickle, Head of their department, stood on the small stage, holding her wand to her neck as she spoke. She was dressed gloriously odd as always; several necklaces and bracelets were layered on top of each other, clanging and clinking with her every move, paired with a well-used, patched up but lovely cloak she always wore.</p><p>Cormac had already completely forgotten whatever he was going to say; at full attention for their Head’s speech.</p><p>Hermione put down the empty champagne glass and looked around; everyone in the room was focused on Prickle, whose words of encouragement and pride bounced around the walls with the power of the Sonorus spell.</p><p>
  <em>You’re Hermione Granger, you can do this.</em>
</p><p>She started moving towards the large archway leading to the elevators and office to her right. Nobody was paying her attention.</p><p>Until she was just about to turn the corner, throwing a last glance into the populated room of distracted people, meeting a pair of attentive, grey eyes.</p><p>“Dammit”, she cry-whispered, quickly walking down the hall. Draco had seen her leave. She had to get the cloak on soon she thought, opening her purse as she was about to cram her arm in to the armpit, when suddenly she ran into someone.</p><p>“Oops! Look where you’re walking, Miss Granger!”, Milla chirped in an annoyingly chipper tone. Hermione hadn’t seen her coming the other way; the evening halls of the Ministry were simply too dark.</p><p>“Don’t worry”, Hermione laughed nervously, smiling until Milla decided to leave.</p><p>Hermione’s heart was pounding fast as Milly kept walking toward the room. The girl had cost her time.</p><p>She buried her arm deep within the purse, desperately feeling around for the silky fabric of the cloak.</p><p>There it was. She pulled it up.</p><p>“What have you got there, Granger?”</p><p>With a small yelp, Hermione swirled on the spot to face Draco leaning non-chalantly against a pillar in the middle of the hallway, arms folded across his chest, stern eyes watching her with a raised eyebrow. She let go of the cloak and clicked the purse shut.</p><p>Hermione exhaled through her nose, lips pressed tightly together, grinding her teeth.</p><p>“Do you always follow alone women down dark hallways, Malfoy?”, she spat.</p><p>He pushed himself off of the pillar and stepped closer.</p><p>“Only when they’re obviously gonna do something stupid.“</p><p>“You conceited prat! You don’t know that!”, Hermione erupted with a terrible squeak in her voice, but Draco continued.</p><p>“-do you really think I don’t know you after years of working together? Don’t be ridiculous.”</p><p>Draco was looking right at her and Hermione breathed, formulating an answer in her head before she could push it past her lips.</p><p>“I’m ridiculous? Aren’t you the one who lied yesterday? Parkinson looked right busy on your arm, you’re right.”</p><p>Not a single muscle moved in his face as her words hung in the air.</p><p>“So was McLaggen, wasn’t he?”</p><p>Hermione mouth fell open. Her mind was blank with blind anger at his words. Too many thoughts were flitting through her mind, and not enough words to force them all out at once.</p><p>“I didn’t lie. I really wasn’t planning on going out with them, they basically forced me to.”</p><p>Words returned to her mouth as Hermione scoffed.</p><p>“Please, that’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard. They forced you? As if anyone could force you to do anything.”</p><p>The shadows on his face grew shorter as he stepped even closer, and Hermione could see the muscles in his tense jaw shift.</p><p>“I tend to lie even less.”</p><p>“I’m not doing this. I’m leaving.”</p><p>Hermione turned around and walked away, down the hall, towards the elevators. She had to find a way to get rid of him, her thoughts of him, and the cloak on her. She was already in bad timing.</p><p>Draco followed her without missing a beat.</p><p>“Leaving? Where?”</p><p>“That doesn’t bloody concern you, Malfoy, because if I remember right, you said you weren’t ‘doing this anymore’!”, she shouted, then stopping in her tracks as she realized what she’d admitted.</p><p>“So you were going to try and do something reckless.”</p><p>Hermione could feel his presence behind her, like a magnet she was trying so hard to resist.</p><p>She was strong. So she started walking again.</p><p>“Where are you going?”, he repeated, the sound of his shoes clacking as he followed her.</p><p>Hermione was staring at a fixed point on the horizon when she answered.</p><p>“Home.”</p><p>A haughty chuckle that sent shingles up her spine echoed through the hall.</p><p>“I have a hard time believing that.”</p><p>“Well, believe it”, she forced through clenched teeth. They had almost reached the elevators, the noises of the event far away now as the faint clapping of the crowd bounced off the high walls.</p><p>“If that’s the case, then you surely don’t mind me making sure you get you home safe.”</p><p>“I do mind actually, I don’t need a bloody babysitter. Stop bothering me.”</p><p>She picked up her pace as she steered towards the nearest elevator, her legs trembling. It seemed that her efforts were fruitless, because Draco had entered behind her before she could close it.</p><p>“For Merlin’s sake, will you leave it!”, she shrieked then, shaking with the efforts to contain herself. She had turned around to face him, crossed arms and scornful look.</p><p>The bright light of the elevator didn’t hide the rigid, displeased line of his brows like the shadows in the halls did. Hermione stared at him, begging her eyes not to move an inch away from his eyes, nowhere near his light stubble, his lips or the sharp suit he wore.</p><p>“I’m protecting you from yourself. You promised me you’d stop this!”</p><p>“I didn’t promise you anything! I just said I’d stop for now, and- “</p><p>“You stopped for five fucking days!”</p><p>Amongst their screaming voices, the elevator was rattling loudly as it started moving downwards. Any plans of entering the Department of Mysteries had finally disappeared; even if Hermione did manage to get rid of him, she was far too mad to continue her original plan now.</p><p>“So what?! You don’t get to have a say on what I do, Malfoy!”, Hermione yelled. Right before he could shout back, the elevator doors opened with mechanical clattering and Hermione rushed past him before he could even turn. She felt his hand grip her upper arm, but his fingers slid away before he could hold her back.</p><p>“Don’t run away from me, Hermione!”</p><p>Hermione speed-walked through the empty atrium, her heels clacking angrily on the floor.</p><p>“Oh, I’ll run away! I’m done being bossed around!”</p><p>“Bossed around?! I’m saving you from yourself!”, he shouted, but Hermione was ignoring him.</p><p>Suddenly, his fast steps grew near and before she could match her speed, her purse was snatched from where she had been holding it tightly.</p><p>She stopped so abruptly, she almost tumbled, swirling on the spot.</p><p>“Give me back my fucking purse!”, she cried, but Draco was holding it high above his head.</p><p>“Not until we talk this out”, he gritted through his teeth.</p><p>They stared at each other for a few moments. Hermione was contemplating her choices.</p><p>Then she lunged at him, almost pulling him down with her as she tried to yank his arm down. He was ridiculously strong; where did he hide all those muscles?!</p><p>After a few moments of hard breathing and panting, trying to overpower the other, Hermione let out a frustrated screech.</p><p>“Merlin help me, I’m stupid!”</p><p>She pulled out her wand, but Draco was ahead of her.</p><p>
  <em>“Protego!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Accio!”</em>
</p><p>Hermione watched slack mouthed as her spell bounced off the force shield in front of him.</p><p>Draco was watching her expectantly, waiting for her next move.</p><p>“Fine. Keep the purse. It matches your suit.”</p><p>She turned on the spot and marched to the fireplaces.</p><p>“What?!”, he shouted, exasperated.</p><p>“You heard me. Add it to your collection.”</p><p>She had almost reached the fireplaces. Fast steps were growing closer.</p><p>“You’d rather have me your purse with whatever stuff in it than talk this out?!”, he yelled. Hermione grabbed a handful of Floo from the pot next to the fireplace, stepping inside and turning to face Draco.</p><p>“No. I just want to go home and forget this ever happened.”</p><p>Draco skidded to a halt a few meters away, watching stunned as she threw down the Floo powder and shouted her address, swirling away as green flames engulfed her body.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Hermione stepped out of her fireplace into the barely lit living room, the low glim from the aquarium the first thing she saw and besides, a sleeping Crookshanks, she could almost think that her heart wasn’t racing from the stupid fight.</p><p>She couldn’t believe she had joined his childish antics. She knew he wasn’t going to look through her purse; even then, there was little in there he couldn’t buy himself.</p><p>The pit in her stomach was burning with the tight ball of feelings he triggered; she was mad at him for trying to control her, yet she missed him, she missed the person she was around his usual self, and there was this bloody pulse of excitement rushing through her whole body as her cursed mind kept reminding her what his form felt like pressed against hers.</p><p>Hermione might explode with all the sensations all over her body; she couldn’t stop trembling.</p><p>With a sigh, she walked to the sofa, plopped down as she took off her heels. Crookshanks meowed offendedly and jumped off, stalking out of the room with his tail raised high.</p><p>She had just lain back, wondering if it was worth obliviating herself, when rapid, erratic knocks rapped on her door.</p><p>She raised her head, blinking through the dim light at the door. It couldn’t be-</p><p>“Hermione, just take your damn purse. I shouldn’t have taken it.”</p><p>His words were muffled through the door; he sounded mildly out of breath, still a temper in his voice. Yet, it kind of sounded like he was begging her.</p><p>Hermione rose to her feet, staring at the door, contemplating.</p><p>“I know you’re there, Granger.”</p><p>With a stutter in her heartbeat, she walked towards the door and switched the light on, then performed the spells to unlock her wards. She opened it wide enough to see him in the unforgiving light of her apartment buildings hallway.</p><p>His cheeks were still tinged a pink colour from the shouting and his brows were drawn in a manner that told her he was still furious, but nonetheless, he held out her purse.</p><p>“Here.”</p><p>Hermione took it.</p><p>“Why didn’t you come by Floo?”, she asked, looking at her purse, then up at him.</p><p>He raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“You were willing to leave me alone with your precious purse. I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have hesitated hexing me up to Scotland if I had just come into your living room.”</p><p>“That’s true.”</p><p>They looked at each other. The electrical ball was tossing and turning behind her chest; she couldn’t help but huff and draw her eyebrows again.</p><p>“You’re still an idiot.”</p><p>Draco laid his head back and closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring.</p><p>“Merlin help me. You’re more bloody stubborn than it does you goo- “</p><p>“Oh, don’t tell me I’m stubborn!”, she interrupted, agitated, turning away to walk back to her living room, not bothering to close the door. He wouldn’t leave until they had it out, and she’d rather have it out on her apartment than out in the hallway. She felt wildly uncomfortable, thinking about escaping again – but a hellish week had made her weak.</p><p>“I’m being reasonable if anything! Whatever brilliant bloody plan you had for tonight, I am absolutely sure it wouldn’t have worked out anyway!”</p><p>He followed her inside and Hermione turned on the spot, glaring.</p><p>“You don’t bloody know that! And why do you care so much anyway?! You said you weren’t gonna be involved in this anymore!”, she screeched, crossing her arms across her chest.</p><p>“I do bloody know that, because there is no way to get into the department without getting into danger! And just because I’m not willing to risk my own life for this case doesn’t mean I’ll let you risk yours, and- “</p><p>“Oh, aren’t you a knight in shining armor?! I got in there when I was fifteen, I don’t think I’ll get killed doing it now! You’re just so bloody controlling it’s- “</p><p>Draco stepped closer, his neck and cheeks flushed as he interrupted her.</p><p>“And don’t you think they upped their security measures now?! Even then, you should have asked me for help-”</p><p>“Ask you for help?! You barely looked at me all week! You don’t get to stop working on this case and then be offended when I don’t consult your High Honour- “</p><p>“Just because I didn’t want to work on this anymore doesn’t mean you can put yourself in danger!”, he shouted. The mingling of their screaming words filled the room to the brim.</p><p>“Why do you even worry so much, Malfoy?!”, she cried, hands balled to fists at her side.</p><p>“Because I bloody care about you! Is that so hard to understand?! I thought you were- “</p><p>Before Draco could finish whatever he thought she was, his voice broke, mouth frozen in a stunned O, his eyes focused on a point behind Hermione.</p><p>Hermione watched him, completely confused, before she turned to look what had stopped his tirade.</p><p>Her heart stopped.</p><p>The aquarium was swirling with red and yellow fireflies, dipping the room into a deep, orange glow. Her mind retraced the conversation to who said whose name last.</p><p>As the realization hit her, the ball in her chest constricted, pulling away all and any thoughts, plummeting them into a deep hole that opened in the depths of her stomach, sucking her down with it. The lightness in her head made her feel dizzy and sick all of a sudden; hot, white panic was deafening her ears.</p><p>Her face rushed with hot, flush embarrassment. She wished for nothing more than the ground to swallow her up and never spit her out again. Her heart was beating so fast and loud, she wondered if her neighbours could hear it pumping wildly.</p><p>The moment stretched on forever it seemed; in her mind, an hour had passed when she finally turned back towards Draco again, every movement so slow, it felt like pushing through freshly poured cement.</p><p>Hermione liked to think that she could read Draco Malfoy better than most people.</p><p>However, she had never seen a look of absolute, pure… awe.</p><p>Her mind was sluggishly wondering what it might mean when he suddenly surged forward, grabbing her head between his hands and crashing his lips to hers.</p><p>For just a second, Hermione was stunned, her eyes opened as her brain caught up with reality.</p><p>Then, like a dam had been released, she kissed him back with more fervour than she’d previously believed herself capable of: Suddenly, her hands were in his hair, pulling at the silky strands, pretty sure it must be hurting him.</p><p>He emitted a low groan as he peppered her with kisses, over and over, until Hermione arched into him, scratching his neck, and his tongue pushed past her lips and pinned her bare. She could barely feel them moving backwards.</p><p>Her toes curled, all senses surrendered, no thoughts in her mind left. His hands were roaming her body almost desperately, like he couldn’t decide where to hold her, what part of her wanted to touch first. Her skin was on fire, electricity shooting from his every single touch.</p><p>Hermione’s hands slid down his neck to the front of his suit jacket, her fingers greedily traveling underneath to feel his solid, broad chest through his shirt. He squeezed her waist, hip, bum and she sighed as his lips moved down a path she could still remember all too well.</p><p>His hands were pulling and yanking on the tight fabric of the dress.</p><p>“Bloody dress driving me crazy”, he breathed through kisses peppered along her bare shoulder as he pushed said dress away to reveal more skin. Hermione was grabbing at his jacket like an impatient child; there was far too much clothing still separating them.</p><p>Her lips found his again and suddenly Hermione’s back hit the wall, and she braced herself against it as she clumsily pulled off his jacket and shirt, their lips disconnecting for far too long.</p><p>“Hasty, are we?”, he chuckled as her trembling fingers pulled the shirt over his head and he emerged with swollen lips, flushed cheeks and completely tousled hair.</p><p>“Shut up”, she mumbled, pulling him back into a kiss. His hands started running over her body again, leaving a hot trail in their path that burned all over.</p><p>“Where is the bloody zipper?”, he whispered as he pulled back to look down her back over her shoulder, desperate.</p><p>“Left side”, Hermione replied out of breath as she finally focused on his creamy white shoulders and toned chest; planting a trail of hot kisses from his neck to his shoulder, sucking and biting down lightly as she felt like it. He was breathing heavily, his movements sluggish, and Hermione relished in the sounds she could draw from him, focusing all of her might into leaving as many marks as possible on his now wet skin.</p><p>“Merlin dammit- “, she heard after his hands patted her sides down wildly, before the sound of tearing fabric made her jolt back from where her mouth had been connected to his neck.</p><p>“Draco!”, she gasped, but he was kissing her again, over and over, and she’d already forgotten about the dress.</p><p>“I’ll buy you ten new ones”, he breathed.</p><p>From where he had ripped the dress, it was draping down leisurely, exposing her shoulders fully and coming to a rest on the swell of her breasts. For a second, Hermione worried about the basic, mismatched underwear she was wearing, but all worries disappeared with a shudder as he explored the newly uncovered skin, completely unbothered.</p><p>She didn’t even notice when one of his hands hitched her leg up to wrap around his hips, and before she knew it, she was pushed up against the wall being held by nothing by his hands on her bum, the wall itself and her arms wrapped around his neck.</p><p>Without missing a beat, lips still sealed together, Draco lifted her off the wall, swallowing her yelp as he grunted.</p><p>The trip to her bedroom was clipped; later, Hermione would only remember how they clumsily crashed into several obstacles along the way, leaving a trail of chaos behind, before they even reached their destination.</p><p>And once Draco dropped her on the sheets, climbing over her to reconnect their lips, nothing mattered anymore but the sheets wrapped around them and how his burning skin felt against hers.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>lads if you enjoyed pls consider leaving kudos or a comment!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Open Sesame</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hermione woke up to the unforgiving, blinding morning sun shining through the window and Draco’s form wrapped around her body, his breaths ghosting across the back of her neck where his noise was buried, still well asleep.</p><p>After she managed to ply herself free from his arms around her waist, she slowly glanced at him. His normally sharp, strong features had softened into a completely relaxed, utterly adorable little pout when he slept. He resembled an innocent schoolboy more than the proud man she knew. And even though Hermione would have loved to relish in this stolen moment of serenity just a bit longer, the pressure on her bladder forced her to leave the bed.</p><p>Five minutes later she stood in the kitchen, flimsily dressed in a long sleeping shirt and shorts, preparing morning tea as she ate an apple, staring into the void as last night’s event played through her mind. There was a slight telltale soreness all over her body that she couldn’t help but relish in.</p><p>She hadn’t felt this elated in months. Though, questions remained to be answered.</p><p>The water boiler was coming to a simmer and before she could pour herself a cup, she heard the sound of feet slapping closer. Her heart started racing and just as she turned around to see a disheveled, sleepy Draco dressed merely in boxers crossing the kitchen, and she heard a mumbling that sounded like “I thought you left”, but before she could process the words, he had already pinned her against the kitchen counter and pressed his lips to hers.</p><p>All the possible greetings and words she had haphazardly prepared slipped from her mind at once and she sighed, melting into his embrace as his tongue slowly captured her in a lavishly long morning make-out.</p><p>As good as it felt to kiss him – it really did – and even though she could have continued for hours, once her mind caught up with the present again, she moved her hands from his messy hair to his chest and slowly pushed until they separated.</p><p>Draco opened his eyes sluggishly, blinking like he’d woken from a dream.</p><p>“What?”, he mumbled, and Hermione almost surrendered at the adorable sight of his already pinkened cheeks and tousled hair.</p><p>“We need to talk”, she breathed, reconsidering whether the talk was worth it.</p><p>“That doesn’t sound good”, he mumbled, diving for her jaw and Hermione almost lost touch with her brain when his lips dragged across the column of her neck to her collarbone, sucking intently. Their bodies were pressed flush together.</p><p>“First, we do need to talk about last night’s fight- “, she began, until he found a particularly sensitive spot and began worshipping it. Her skin was still raw and sensitive from last night.</p><p>“Hmm?”, he emitted, and Hermione laid her head back, closing her eyes as she relished in the feeling. His hands had traveled underneath her oversized shirt, exploring her still sore body.</p><p>“… and secondly- “</p><p>She sucked in air as he found another spot and she turned her head to give him better access, which he utilised fully. His thumb brushed underneath the swell of her breast.</p><p>“… secondly, about us”, she finally finished, not even sure what she was talking about anymore.</p><p>Suddenly, his mouth disconnected from her neck and she almost hissed at the loss of contact. She turned her head and found his face emerged, just inches from her own, licking his swollen lips.</p><p>“That’s a way to ruin the mood”, he mumbled, but she knew he wasn’t mad. After all, he still had her pinned against the counter and he wasn’t making any movement to release her.</p><p>“I know. But we still need to- “</p><p>Draco leaned forwards and dropped another soft kiss on her lips, interrupting her.</p><p>“If it wasn’t clear already, I like you”, he followed up immediately, watching her reaction.</p><p>Hermione felt her heart swell to the point of bursting at his words; it felt stupid, like she was a naïve schoolgirl again with pointless crushes, but the way his usually grey, dark cloudy eyes seemed completely clear and open as he looked at her now, she really couldn’t blame her heart for fluttering.</p><p>“I like you, too”, she whispered. Her voice almost cracked.</p><p>A lazy smile split his face and he leaned forward for another kiss, one of his hands splayed across her lower back as he pulled her even closer.</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>“We still need to talk about last night’s fight”, she insisted. Draco’s face blanked, and he dropped his head on her shoulder.</p><p>“You really know how to turn a guy on.”</p><p>He was nibbling at her collarbone again, dragging his nose over her neck, his breath creating goosebumps on her skin, and once again, with all of her might, she pushed him away just far enough to come to eye-level again.</p><p>“I know how to turn a guy on, trust me- “, she began, ignoring the immediate widening of his eyes, “-but last week really was horrible for me. I want to know what you were thinking. Especially on Friday.”</p><p>His hands dropped to her waist, leaning back a bit as he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.</p><p>“I know opening up is not easy for you. Just… try. Please.”</p><p>His eyes cracked open and he was looking at her again that way, the way that made her heart flutter and thoughts turn off.</p><p>She waited a few moments.</p><p>“Zurich really… freaked me out. Once because we almost got caught and… because of the kiss.”</p><p>Hermione nodded.</p><p>“I didn’t want to forbid you from working this case, but I- “, he stopped talking and dropped his head to her shoulder again, taking a deep breath. Hermione placed a hand in his hair, stroking through it, waiting for him to keep talking.</p><p>“I was so worried- and freaked out, because the kiss wouldn’t- I just saw you in a much different light. Not all of a sudden, but much stronger now. I didn’t know how to deal with it. I shouldn’t have forced you to make promises I knew you couldn’t keep.”</p><p>Hermione combed her fingers through his hair rhythmically. His arms around her waist tightened.</p><p>“And I was telling the truth about Friday. Theo said I’d been a ‘sad, pitiful twat’ all week and he forced me to go out with them. I really did plan on doing something else.”</p><p>“What else was your plan?”</p><p>“Being a sad, pitiful twat getting drunk alone in my apartment.”</p><p>She couldn’t help but laugh at that and she felt the vibrations of his chest against hers as he chuckled with her. Finally, he raised his head again.</p><p>“I’m sorry”, he mumbled, searching her eyes carefully for any kind of doubt. She kissed him softly.</p><p>“Apology accepted”, she whispered as she pulled away, but his lips chased hers and soon enough, Hermione had lost track of time again.</p><p>Minutes later, they broke apart again to catch their breath.</p><p>“I admit, I could have been less stubborn too”, she whispered, and Draco nodded.</p><p>“And in hindsight, my plan really wasn’t that great”, she admitted sheepishly, and Draco laughed beautifully.</p><p>“But since we’ve cleared the air now- “, she started again, but got distracted by his lips on her neck once again. She would have been annoyed by now if she didn’t know exactly how addicting it felt to kiss him.</p><p>“- We can continue with this case again.”</p><p>Draco halted his adventure down to her shoulder and sighed.</p><p>“Fine. Only to expose Rabnott, and to keep you from attempting something stupid again - “</p><p>“It wasn’t that stupid - “, Hermione protested but Draco smothered her with another kiss, and despite her sore lips, Hermione really couldn’t resist.</p><p> </p><p>The next morning, they arrived at their office exactly five minutes apart from each other. Hermione had insisted on formulating somewhat of a plan yesterday, until Draco had unanimously decided that he wanted to take her on their first date, and they’d spent the evening at a cozy muggle restaurant around the corner, where absolutely no one they knew could accidentally bump into them.</p><p>They didn’t want to make the new development of their relationship public just yet but rather relish in the bubble of new love; which was why, even though Draco had spent the night at her place again, they had timed their arrivals to avoid raising suspicion.</p><p>As Hermione walked through the spaces and halls of the ministry, the same path she walked every day, everything around her seemed to be just a bit different; a bit more vibrant, lively, and colourful. She smiled at everyone she passed; her feet barely felt like they moved; it seemed more likely that she was floating on a cloud. One day with Draco had erased weeks of uncertainty and pain.</p><p>There were barely any memories left of how she’d felt only two days ago. Only an endless series of new, sweet memories that had filled up the entirety of her Sunday.</p><p>As she was sat at her desk, ignoring the newly arrived piles of reports and new or old cases, and simply staring into space, she could tell by the pulling in her chest that she was merely waiting for Draco to arrive, too.</p><p>It was odd, she thought, but she couldn’t remember ever missing Ron like that, even when they were still naïve, love-stricken teenagers. She had loved him, she truly did; they’d had a lot of fun during the romantic part of their relationship, but never had she spent an entire day with him without barely any break, and immediately missed him as soon as their ways parted.</p><p>Even though her lips still felt sore from the last snog they’d had before she left first, she was already checking the clock as the minutes ticked by.</p><p>Hermione couldn’t remember having been this in love in a long time.</p><p>When the door finally opened, she jolted upright, only to deflate when Cormac entered, a sheepish look on his face.</p><p>“Hey, ‘Mione – I was hoping to catch you alone. I wanted to ask you something.”</p><p>Hermione nodded. “Sure, what is it, Cormac?”</p><p>He closed the door behind him and strutted into the room, taking a seat in front of Hermione’s desk. His hands smoothed down the front of his coat.</p><p>“I really did have fun last Friday, and you disappeared so fast on Saturday, that I didn’t get the chance to- “</p><p>Hermione’s cheeks were growing hot as realization dawned and both of them flinched as the door opened again, only to reveal Draco. He saw her first, his eyes soft and clear, but as soon as he noticed Cormac across from her, the grey in his eyes darkened almost unnoticeably.</p><p>“Morning, Granger. McLaggen”, he greeted coldly and stalked to his desk, sitting down. Cormac’s eyes followed his movement and when he turned around to Hermione, his cheeks were tinged a light pink.</p><p>“Oh well, I would have hoped to do this alone- “</p><p>“Don’t mind me, I’m not listening”, Draco said, bowed deep over some paperwork he had procured, obviously listening.</p><p>Cormac was red now. Hermione tried not to grimace.</p><p>His voice was much quieter, almost a whisper, like he was hoping to somehow be quiet enough for Draco not to hear. He was wildly fiddling with the hem of his coat.</p><p>“Well – I wanted to, uhm, ask you if you’d like to get dinner this Friday. Just us, you know.”</p><p>A quill scratched loudly on parchment where Draco sat and Cormac nervously shot a look behind. The blonde was still undoubtedly listening.</p><p>“Cormac, I – Thank you, I really appreciate it, but I can’t”, Hermione said with as much care as she could. Cormac looked almost purple.</p><p>“Oh, I just thought – I’m sorry, I just thought we were really hitting it off last Friday, I don’t really understand- “</p><p>“I’m dating someone else”, Hermione blurted, her neck burning.</p><p>Draco shuffled obnoxiously.</p><p>Cormac’s eyes were ridiculously round.</p><p>“Really? I was sure you weren’t – I asked around a lot, so I – not to say I was stalking you! No, I was just making sure the coast was, uh, clear? You know, like making sure you were – available- “</p><p>“I don’t really talk about my personal life at work, so- “</p><p>Cormac shuffled conspicuously closer, leaning in to whisper.</p><p>“I even asked Malfoy! He told me you were available!”, he insisted, and Hermione looked up to find Draco’s head bowed deeply over his parchment, his quill bending with the effort, a slight shaking to his shoulders.</p><p>“Did he?”, she mumbled, and Cormac nodded enthusiastically.</p><p>“Either way, that must have been a while ago. Sorry, Cormac.”</p><p>Cormac leaned back. “Yes, of course. You’re right. I’m sorry, I’ll just- “</p><p>He scrambled to his feet and mumbled incessant apologies as he slowly moved towards the door.</p><p>“Goodbye, Cormac”, Hermione waved with a slight cringe.</p><p>“Bye, McLaggen”, Draco pressed out, hunched over his parchment, pretending to scribble wildly.</p><p>“Yes, goodbye, see you”, Cormac said hastily and like a gust of wind, he was gone.</p><p>The door finally clicked shut, and Hermione’s eyes immediately shot towards Draco, who was lain across his desk, face buried in his arms, shaking uncontrollably as she could hear muffled laughter. She bit her lip to no avail; soon enough, she was giggling, too.</p><p>“You told him I was single?!”, Hermione squealed, pressing her hands over her mouth to keep the laughter in. Draco emerged, cheeks split into a permanent smile she’d seen more yesterday than in the past ten years combined, flushed pink like Cormac just seconds before.</p><p>“A week ago!”</p><p>With that, they descended into even more laughter.</p><p> </p><p>The next two weeks passed in a blur. Hermione told Ginny about them on Tuesday, after they realized that keeping it a secret any longer would make either of them burst, so each of them was allowed to tell one person. Draco chose Theo, who apparently descended onto his apartment with an insane amount of heart-shaped balloons, heart-shaped cupcakes and anything heart-shaped there was to buy.</p><p>When Ginny walked into their office on Wednesday for their lunch-meetup to find Hermione pinned between Draco’s mouth and the bookshelf, Hermione laid down a strict no-making-out-or-else-at-work-rule. This was obviously opposed strongly by all three other parties involved; surprisingly mostly Theo, who burst into their office the next day, proclaiming that he must put an end to the dictatorship that Hermione was enforcing.</p><p>It was the first time Hermione could remember that she had talked to Theo, and she could quickly see why the two men were friends; they were absolute polar opposites. It seemed that Theo was insane enough for the both of them, and she learned from Draco that he had served as his main emotional support during the week after Zurich, despite not being asked to be so.</p><p>13 days of pure, romantic and borderline psychotic events had left them with more than enough time to realize that this definitely wasn’t a short-time fling. Spending time with Draco had taken a 180; every minute was better than the last, every quarrel a bit more ridiculous, every kiss a bit more sweet. From the second he left, she was counting the hours until they saw each other again; being around him turned her into a person she very much liked.</p><p>It also allowed them to come up with a comprehensible plan for how to finally expose Rabnott. A lot of make-out sessions and morning, noon, afternoon, evening and night sex had been involved in bribing Draco into helping her; it was both useful to the plan, and also purely for Hermione’s satisfaction. It turned out that he really did know what to do with that foul mouth of his.</p><p> </p><p>On Saturday night, there was a fundraising gala for the wizarding preschool program that included witches and wizards of every blood status, organized by the Department of Magical Education. They’d been invited because of both their status and wealth.</p><p>It was the perfect opportunity, just like the last event had been; They had a reason to be at the Ministry after work hours, and they ran little risk of encountering anyone in the Department of Mysteries.</p><p>Using the Cloak of Invisibility, they had spent most of their last weeks lunches following several of Rabnott’s minions into the Entrance Chamber behind the black door. It seemed that the door which lead to the office changed every hours of the day and they had soon discovered a rhythm (thank Merlin they both took Arithmancy at Hogwarts), that made them pretty confident in their plan.</p><p>There had been lots of other spells involved that had made them absolutely undiscoverable, as well as several attempts to steal floorplans and authorizing badges. None of it had worked, but without Harry’s cloak – he’d stopped asking back for it – they wouldn’t have come so far in the first place.</p><p>The gala had come to a close: it was nearing midnight, and the last few drunk sponsors and ministry workers were clearing out. Draco and Hermione had mingled at first, then retreated into a corner of the hallway outside, sat there covered by the cloak for at least three hours while they waited for the ministry to empty. It was a tiresome wait; Hermione had conjured pillows to give her and Draco something other to sit on than cold tiles, and Draco had fallen asleep on her shoulder over an hour ago.</p><p>Despite the growing nervousness from what they were going to do, the last two weeks of nonstop investigating and spending time with Draco, however fun it had been, had exhausted Hermione endlessly.</p><p>She jolted awake into the pitch-black of the ministry, completely disoriented for at least ten seconds as she blinked around wildly, trying to discern anything out of the pitch-black darkness around her.</p><p>Draco was still leaning against her, snoring softly, and Hermione realized that she had fallen asleep.</p><p>Absolutely bloody glorious.</p><p>Draco awoke with much protest after Hermione cast Lumos, and she quickly checked the time to find that it was only one am. The gala had completely cleared out; the silence around them was near deafening.</p><p>“Do we have to?”, Draco nagged, and though Hermione had learned to absolutely adore his morning crankiness, she had no time for it now.</p><p>“Come one, we need to go”, she mumbled as she stood up, pulling off the cloak. Draco groaned.</p><p>“I don’t get paid nearly enough for this nonsense- “</p><p>“I’m paying you with love and sex, now shut up”, Hermione interrupted him as she pulled out a summary of the pattern they had figured out, matching it up with the current time.</p><p>“Hm, that you do”, Draco hummed in agreement, leaning over her shoulder to read along with her. His slender finger pointed at the correct point in the pattern just as she found it, too.</p><p>“This one.”</p><p>“Let’s go.”</p><p>After they hauled ass through the ghostly hallways of the normally bustling ministry, they reached the ministry of department with the singular black door they had been watching constantly for the last weeks. There were only torches lighting their way and Hermione felt a chill run up her spine; she couldn’t imagine now doing this on her own two weeks ago.</p><p>As they opened the door into the circular room, faced with twelve exactly similar black doors around them in a circular motion, Hermione’s heartbeat increased.</p><p>Just like they had planned, Draco stayed at the door, holding it open to keep the room from rotating, and Hermione soon sought out the correct path, the one three doors left from the one they had entered through.</p><p>She swung it wide open and was now finally faced with a nearly identical corridor like the one leading to the black door; only for this one, there were more and more black doors lining the hallway.</p><p>She turned to Draco, holding the door while she stretched out to grab his hand, and only using his fingertips to hold the first door open, they met in the middle.</p><p>They counted down in unison.</p><p>“…One!”</p><p>With that, Hermione yanked Draco towards herself and they stumbled onto the floor in the new hallway, watching as the door closed behind them and they could feel and hear the telltale rumble of the circular room rotating behind it.</p><p>They looked up from where they had scrambled onto the floor at the dark hallway around them.</p><p>They had entered the office space of the Department of Mysteries. That had been their only goal; this was where their plan ended.</p><p>It turned out that the hallway seemed to be literally endless; after checking the first few doors to find nothing but unpromising pitch black darkness past the immediate threshold, all they could do was keep walking down until something in the monotonous repeating of the same black doors over and over, seemed out of place.</p><p>The hallway grew small and tiny at the end of the horizon, and Hermione’s hope dwindled with every passing minute. She was hyper-aware of Draco’s presence now; not in the usual way she’d gotten accustomed to now, but more shameful than anything.</p><p>She had dragged him into this. They didn’t even know if they could get back out through the same door they’d left behind. Perhaps they were in grave danger, exploring the most top-secret Department of the Ministry.</p><p>On the other hand, Rabnott was still abusing her power. There had to be done something, and this was the only thing they could come up with.</p><p>Constricting thoughts and an imminent feeling of panic grew into a pulsing, anxious ball in Hermione’s chest, and soon enough, she was trying to control her breathing.</p><p>“Hermione?”</p><p>Draco had noticed the stagger in her pace and turned around to see her pale and shivering, trying to hold back tears. The colour drained from his face as his eyes grew round, searching her face and body for any indication for what was wrong.</p><p>“What is it? Are you hurt?”, he asked, lunging forward to pat down her front and sides for any injury.</p><p>Hermione could barely keep herself from sobbing. Exhaustion had caught up.</p><p>“I’m so sorry Draco - we worked so, so - long to get here, and now we don’t even know what to do, and we might not even know how to get out, and I just- “</p><p>She hung her head as the tears started rolling and before she knew it, Draco had wrapped her up in his arms, holding her close.</p><p>“Don’t apologize for anything. I wanted to do this too”, he mumbled near her ear, stroking through her hair, and Hermione shook violently with another wave of tears, trying to hold them back, gasping for air.</p><p>“But I- I dragged you into this, I shouldn’t have, and now we’re just lost and might not even find anything”, she continued, wiping at her tears wildly. Her throat felt like it was closing up; the tight ball in her chest made it impossible to breathe. Draco interrupted her with shooing-noises, rubbing her back in a soothing, circular motion.</p><p>“You didn’t drag me into anything. We’re in this together.”</p><p>He repeated the words in whispers, like a ritual, over and over until Hermione’s breathing calmed down and she rested her head on his shoulder, allowing the chaos in her chest to calm down. A few minutes later, after she was sure she’d avoided the panic attack, she slowly leaned back, and for a moment he watched her, expecting another bout of panic.</p><p>“Thank you”, she whispered, and she leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his lips.</p><p>It was sweet, far too short, and when they separated a second later, Draco grabbed her hand.</p><p>“Come on.”</p><p>With new courage in her heart, they scanned their surroundings for a few moments.</p><p>“We’re in a loop. There’s something we have to do to break out”, Hermione said, searching for any kind of inconsistency in a single door, a tiling, a different hue of black.</p><p>
  <em>“Revelio.”</em>
</p><p>They waited for any kind of change in their surroundings; They had tried the spell already ten minutes ago, and the result was the same.</p><p>Hermione turned towards the wall, tapping it thrice with her wand. <em>“Aparecium.”</em></p><p>Nothing changed. She tried every revealing charm she knew, and she could hear Draco doing the same on the other side of the hallway.</p><p>
  <em>“Specialis Revelio.”</em>
</p><p>Hermione raised an eyebrow as Draco mumbled the spell: It was a spell she had never seen performed correctly; whether if it was for a lack of charms to be discovered or because of the abhorrently difficult execution. She turned around curiously, wondering if it could have possibly worked.</p><p>A translucent shine of smoke was hovering on a tile to Draco’s left. Hermione’s mouth slipped open; she had never seen a spell discovered before.</p><p>They neared the tile, and Hermione automatically performed another Aparecium, Alohoroma, Revelio; any unlocking spell she could think of. Nothing worked.</p><p>“<em>Dunamis. Aberto. Annihilare.”</em></p><p>Hermione watched Draco try every single one they had ever learned at Hogwarts. Nothing budged.</p><p>“What if it doesn’t have to be unlocked? Only… activated, somehow?”</p><p>“What if it doesn’t need some fancy spell?”, she thought out loud.</p><p>“What?”, Draco asked, confused.</p><p>“What if it needs brute force? Like Open Sesame?”, she continued, walking closer to inspect the inconspicuous tile.</p><p>“If we try that, we could just immediately blow up the whole hallway.”</p><p>Hermione rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. It’s worth a try.”</p><p>“Alright then. You do the honours”, Draco sighed, stepping back and performing Protego to shield them both from whatever blast would rip the wall apart now.</p><p>Hermione braced herself, practicing the correct wand movement a few times.</p><p>
  <em>“Open sesame.”</em>
</p><p>Hermione shielded her eyes from the expected explosion, the fire blast that would usually turn any door into firewood, but instead, there was merely a soft click.</p><p>She opened her eyes to see the black door nearest to the tile cracked open. The force shield disappeared, and Draco stepped forward to pull it open.</p><p>Behind it was a large office space that looked much like the ones on all the other floors, if it werent for the depressing, black tiling and torches lining the walls.</p><p>“Bloody- “, Draco started muttering, looking at Hermione in awe. Then he stepped forwards, grabbed her face between his hands and gave her a bold kiss.</p><p>“You’re bloody genius”, he breathed as he pulled away, and before Hermione could react, he had grabbed her hand and pulled her with him into the large office space.</p><p>They wasted no time at any of the desk scattered throughout the large space; from the same layout throughout the ministry, they knew that Rabnott’s office was very likely the one at the far left end of the room.</p><p>As they burst through the door after performing at least a dozen other unlocking charms, Hermione realized that they may have been one of the first unauthorized people ever to enter this office.</p><p>Thank Merlin it was empty.</p><p>The room was meager; There was only one large desk at the opposite end of the room, made of black stone, with a triumphant chair towering behind. There was no window, no other source of light but the light from the ceiling reflecting off of the bare, black walls.</p><p>“She’s got a knack for interior design”, Draco mumbled, and Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.</p><p>They stepped into the room, looking around for anything they could discover, but a depressing office and obviously well-hidden documents, and whatever Rabnott actually did as Head of the department.</p><p>The door behind them clicked shut, and with it, on the opposite side of the room, another door seemed to protrude out of the wall, like it was emerging out of black tar.</p><p>Hermione turned to check that the door behind them was still there – it was – and after a shared glance, they approached the new door.</p><p>“I bet she has an open-door policy”, Draco mumbled as Hermione performed the most difficult unlocking charms she had ever read about.</p><p>Surprisingly, it was yet again Open Sesame that did the job.</p><p>It seemed to be some sort of magically enlarged closet; it reminded Hermione of the cathedral-high Prophecy room, but in a much more modest, smaller form. The ceiling was not nearly as high and it felt less claustrophobic, but they were similarly surrounded by dozens upon dozens of high shelves filled with odd machinery.</p><p>Hermione stepped closer to the nearest one, ignoring Draco’s attempts to tug her back, and leaned close to inspect it.</p><p>“Draco, this looks almost exactly like the machine we stole from Zurich.”</p><p>His resisting stopped and he gingerly joined her side.</p><p>“You’re right.”</p><p>They looked up at the hundreds of time machines surrounding them, too many for the bare eye to see; probably too many to count, either.</p><p>“Merlin.”</p><p>Merlin indeed, Hermione thought, as her eyes roamed the vast shelves. How could they possibly need that many time machines?</p><p>“There has to be a difference between each one. They don’t need that many.”</p><p>“Difference as in the actual mechanism, or difference in the setting?”, Draco wondered.</p><p>“Setting I’d say? Perhaps they’re pre-configured…”</p><p>“…Maybe the dates they travel to have already been set”, Draco finished her thought, and Hermione nodded. She walked towards another time machine, realizing amongst the bits and pieces of shrapnel and gears and screws, that it seemed to be the exact same as the one next to it.</p><p>“Impossible to tell the different settings”, Hermione concluded. Draco rounded the shelf, inspecting another machine from the other side.</p><p>“Probably determined by some performed spell.”</p><p>“What about a Specialis Revelio?”, she thought out loud, and Draco shuffled back around again.</p><p>“I wouldn’t try that, they’re so fragile – “</p><p>“Not if performed correctly”, Hermione interrupted, raising her wand.</p><p>“Hermione, don’t be foolish. We have no idea what that machine is capable of.”</p><p>Her wand lowered, and she turned to look at him.</p><p>“What should we do then? Just leave it all here? We have to try something.”</p><p>Draco’s gaze wandered across the rows upon rows of shelves towering above them, his tense jaw clicking in thought.</p><p>Then, as though the air had suddenly been sucked out of the room, Hermione was immediately aware of her surroundings with every single sense.</p><p>She stared at Draco, wide-eyed, and she knew he felt it too. He’d frozen, eyes fixed somewhere behind Hermione.</p><p>“Someone’s there”, he mouthed, and Hermione nodded with the littlest movement she could muster.</p><p>The air in the room had turned into a tense, dangerous non-visual fog that made it impossible to think clearly. Hermione had no chance of sensing where the presence came from; it seemed as though a blinding layer was suddenly blocking all of her magical abilities. In the far back of her mind, she knew that this was a property of the room, the entire department, or whoever was suddenly in the room with them.</p><p>Hermione was frozen in place, her breathing shallow, as she allowed Draco to hold grip of her arm tightly as if he was afraid she’d vanish in front of him, and with his free hand, he raised his wand towards a point behind her.</p><p>
  <em>“Protego!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Petrificus Totalus!”</em>
</p><p>The voice boomed through the room, shaking the shelves and filling it up to the ceiling, and Draco’s protective shield was not enough to completely secure them from the powerful performance of the spell.</p><p>Hermione gasped as she felt the force of it hitting his shield and dispersing, a blast of wind blowing through them and blind bits of the missed spell bouncing around the shelves around them.</p><p>Suddenly, they were stumbling and falling, and pieces of the Petrificus Totalus was blasting machines near them apart, and the bursting machinery engulfed them in a bright, blinding light, and all Hermione could do as she helplessly felt her body and mind being squeezed through time and space, was to hold onto Draco.</p><p> </p><p>Their bodies crashed onto hard, wet ground and the first thing Hermione noticed was the grimy, nasty smell of smoke, blood and fecal matter invading her nostrils violently, forcing an unpleasant choke-cough.</p><p>She kept her lids tightly pressed together, too scared to take in where they had landed.</p><p>“Draco?”, she croaked; there was a pounding headache pulsing behind her forehead and her body felt completely exhausted and tattered. It reminded her of the effect time travelling had on her in third year, although this was much stronger.</p><p>Much, much stronger.</p><p>“Hermione- “, she heard Draco say from somewhere near and just then could she actually feel her tingling limbs return to their senses. His hand was still wrapped tightly around her upper arm.</p><p>What interrupted him was a retching fit and soon enough, she heard the despicable, squelching sounds of someone getting sick right near her. She could barely blame him.</p><p>Finally, she opened her eyes.</p><p>For a second, she panicked at the pitch-black darkness, wondering if she had gone blind, but soon enough her eyes got used to the lack of light and she started to make out the shabby houses lining the narrow alleyway they had landed in. The wet cobblestone they were laying on was rough and ill-placed.</p><p>Hermione turned her aching body sideways to see Draco hunched over, trembling, his arm pressed across his stomach, spitting out the last bits of vomit. She conjured a napkin and got rid of his sickness.</p><p>“Thank you”, he groaned, wiping his mouth, and Hermione performed another mouth-cleaning spell that she usually only used when she overslept, which was never.</p><p>“Where are we?”, Hermione asked, looking around them. Meagre streetlights hung here and there, illuminating the odd bit of street that only shed light on more dirt, human-made trash and a sort of grimey, well-used appearance to the walls around them. A thick, white and grey fog was hovering over their heads, obstructing the view of anybody who would attempt to see through the alleyway. It sent a shiver down Hermione’s spine.</p><p>This was not the kind of place she would want to be at night.</p><p>Then, as though her hearing had suddenly returned, she realized that in the far distance, she could hear voices shouting and sirens going off. They sounded odd; not like the modern ones she was used to.</p><p>“What in the bloody- “</p><p>Hermione turned to look where Draco was pointing and just now noticed the archway behind them leading into a small court. On one side hung a plate that read “Model Dwellings”, but that wasn’t what had caught Draco’s attention.</p><p>On the other side, was a chalk writing in awkward, oversized handwriting she could barely make out.</p><p>
  <em>The Juwes are the men that Will not be Blamed for nothing.</em>
</p><p>Hermione read the words over and over again, trying to make sense of them, when her gaze wandered down to a piece of cloth on the ground that had been tainted brown and red.</p><p>“What- “, she started, but she was too speechless to continue. At the same time, Draco slowly got to his feet, walking closer, one hand still pressed to his stomach.</p><p>She stood up too, inspecting the ground where they had landed. Nothing but them had travelled to whenever they were; not even bits of a machine.</p><p>It was just them. Her breath caught in her throat when Hermione realized that they had no way of getting back to their time.</p><p>“Goulston Street. Isn’t that in Whitechapel?”, Draco spoke, and Hermione turned around to see a street sign above their heads. Its design was not the same she knew from modern day London.</p><p>“How will we get back?”, she blurted, focus returned to the empty street they had landed on. Draco turned in a full circle, giving their soiled surroundings a look-over. The atrocious smell was already the least of her worries.</p><p>“We got here because the machine got activated. It probably has a set timer, and we will travel back after a predetermined amount of time.”</p><p>It made too much sense.</p><p>“We can’t know that for sure”, Hermione insisted, the doubt at the back of her mind eating away.</p><p>“There’s nothing we can do, except find out where and when we are”, Draco replied. Hermione groaned, frustrated.</p><p>“How do we do that then?”, she bit back. Draco rolled his shoulders.</p><p>
  <em>“Accio today’s newspaper.”</em>
</p><p>They waited a few moments, looking around for anything whirring their way. The sirens and voices had grown quieter and Hermione felt a bit less on edge.</p><p>Then, out of a half-opened window on the second floor of the building to their left, a tattered newspaper squeezed through the small gap, dropping into Draco’s hand. Hermione shuffled closer, leaning over his shoulder to read, and he held the newspaper higher.</p><p>The opened page was filled with enquiries about local music and London Symphony Concerts, but what concerned her most was the date on top.</p><p>“September 29th, 1888”, Draco mumbled as her eyes read the date.</p><p>Her gaze wandered back to the chalk-graffiti on the wall next to them, and the grimy piece of cloth on the ground. And the nagging in the back of her mind finally got released, and like a broken damn, a river of information she’d read a long time ago and stowed away in the back corner of her mind, rushed over her.</p><p>“We need to go”, she whispered, gripping Draco’s arm tightly.</p><p>“Why? What is it? No one’s here. We shouldn’t leave, this is where we landed.”</p><p>“No, we need to leave. Those voices and sirens- “</p><p>They both looked up at the right end of the alleyway, where the noises had suddenly grown louder, and they heard discernible voices barking orders.</p><p>“Draco, we’re in the middle of- “</p><p>And then, a large shadow rounded the corner and Hermione could only see the peaked cap with a police medal on front when she heard a loud voice boom through the alleyway.</p><p>“There they are!”</p><p>Had it not been for Draco pulling her away, Hermione wasn’t sure if she had been able to move, but as it were, they sprinted down the dark alleyway, away from shrill voices, shouts, and the deafening blow of a gun reverberating through the narrow street.</p><p>Draco screamed something, and so were the policemen on their heels, and so were the bullets they were running away from, and Hermione cast a Protego, barely thinking, and suddenly all of the noises turned into a deafening, rushing waterfall that surrounded them in a hot white blaze, and as their bodies were catapulted out of the Whitechapel street and through time and space once again, Hermione felt a pain shoot through her body from her lower back, paralyzing her ever nerve and shooting pure, unfiltered electricity into her limbs.</p><p>The last thing she could remember was Draco’s hand in hers and the earth-shaking ache that vibrated from her core through every single rib, and the feeling of her chest being ripped apart and laid bare to the world.</p><p> </p><p>When Hermione woke again, her head was filled with cotton. Her tongue lay heavy in her mouth, and her body felt sore, like it was trying to melt into the bed she was laying on.</p><p>Bed?</p><p>As she felt around the surface she was laying on, a soft cotton duvet cover, the sterile smell she remembered from her parents’ dentist’s office invaded her nose.</p><p>Through the blinding light above her, she could slowly start to make out her surroundings.</p><p>She was in a hospital bed, in a hospital room, and there was a Healer sitting on the chair next to her bed, bowed deep over a chart. To her left was another bed with the curtains drawn.</p><p>She stared at him, willing her mouth to open or body to move, to somehow gain his attention, but she was paralyzed. Her entire body was useless. It was one of the most terrifying things she’d ever felt.</p><p>She was completely helpless.</p><p>When her breathing became erratic, the flaring of her nostrils finally got the man’s attention.</p><p>It was an older wizard; the wrinkles around his eyes and the lively glim they greeted her with immediately gave her a small sense of calm.</p><p>“Good morning Miss Granger. I’m Healer Lewis.”</p><p>Hermione couldn’t speak. She stared at him, wide-eyed. He raised a calming hand.</p><p>“Don’t worry. We have given you some very strong potions to deal with the injuries. Your lack of mobility is a side-effect, it will probably wear off in a few minutes. Until then, I have to ask you a few questions to know the extent of memory damage done.”</p><p>Hermione wanted to nod.  Her heart was pounding; Mental damage? She could still remember everything, what kind of damage could there have been done?</p><p>“Let’s start like this. Blink once for yes, twice for no.”</p><p>He asked her name, what year it was, who the current minister for magic was, and Hermione became impatient. These questions were gratuitous; she could remember everything, but she couldn’t tell him that.</p><p>As the questions droned on about her past at Hogwarts and current position at the ministry, a slight tingling returned to her tongue, and with an embarrassing amount of effort, she opened her mouth just a bit.</p><p>“I rem’er e’rrything”, she forced out, and the Healer looked up.</p><p>“Miss Granger, I must ask you to keep calm, the potion we gave you still has an incredibly strong effect on your body- “</p><p>“I remember everything”, she interrupted him, speaking more clearly. The words froze in his mouth and he stared at her.</p><p>“You do?”, he asked.</p><p>Hermione couldn’t nod, but she shortened her answer as much as she could.</p><p>“Until we travelled back.”</p><p>He scribbled wildly on the chart.</p><p>“Well, this is highly unusual, albeit positive. We have to conduct further tests for the time being, and you surely want to know what happened- “</p><p>“Where’s Draco?”, she interrupted him again.</p><p>“Since you got the worst of the shot, Mister Malfoy has had a much faster recovery. He woke up three days ago. He left a few minutes ago, but I’m sure he’ll be back momentarily.”</p><p>Hermione couldn’t nod yet.</p><p>“Okay”, she said, absent-minded. Three days? How long had she been asleep? What happened?</p><p>If they thought she’d have memory issues, what about Draco? What if he couldn’t remember what had happened?</p><p>What if he couldn’t remember… them?</p><p>“Before we start the testing, I should leave you to rest a bit. Healing is very exhausting, and your body has done a lot of it over the past week.”</p><p>Hermione watched as Healer Lewis stood up and gave her a last, warm smile before he walked out of eyesight, past the curtained bed.</p><p>A week of healing.</p><p>The last moments she remembered replayed at the forefront of her mind; the yelling, screaming, the deafening blinding light and the searing pain.</p><p>There was an ache in her lower back; too little to really bother her, but enough to be constantly present.</p><p>As she sluggishly managed to pull herself up by a pole overhead into a sitting position, she heard the door open again and for a moment she wondered what Lewis could want again.</p><p>Then, a disheveled Draco with his arms full of sandwich and snack bags rounded the corner.</p><p>He stopped, staring at her, wide-eyed, frozen in motion. Hermione could barely breathe as she took in his shabby appearance; it didn’t seem like he’d shaved in a while, and the casual pajama-like clothes he wore definitely didn’t seem like his usual perfectly groomed self.</p><p>“Draco”, she whispered, and like the world had suddenly started turning again when in a blur of movement, Draco surged to her side and swept her still somewhat limp body into a reluctant hug. She just barely registered the sounds of bags hitting the floor.</p><p>“They told me you’d be in pain when you wake up”, he mumbled, and Hermione let her heavy head roll on his shoulder, closing her eyes as she inhaled his oaky scent.</p><p>“I was. It’s better now”, she breathed, and his arms tightened just a small bit more.</p><p>“So you – you remember?” he asked after a few long, stolen moments of just basking in the others warmth, pulling back to look at her.</p><p>“Of course. I don’t understand, why shouldn’t I remember?”</p><p>She took in the dark rings under his eyes, the ghastly complexion and his knot-stricken hair.</p><p>“You look like you haven’t slept in days”, she continued before he could answer her question. She longed to touch his hair; even though there was a week long gap in her mind, somewhere deep inside, her body knew it had been a while since she’d touched Draco, and she was longing for him.</p><p>“How could I sleep? You looked like you were dead.”</p><p>“Well, I’m not”, she retorted, and he cracked a tired smile.</p><p>“Thank Merlin for that. Who would have nagged me about doing the paperwork ever again?”</p><p>She wanted to slap his shoulder, but her hand only managed to rest on it.</p><p>“I hope I have more duties than that in your life”, she protested half-heartedly, smiling.</p><p>The moment seemed to last forever, yet not long enough. His eyes were so light, like the sky clearing out after a thunderstorm, despite the insomniac darkness around them. No one had ever looked at her like this before.</p><p>Like pure love.</p><p>He cleared his throat.</p><p>“When I woke up a few days ago, I couldn’t immediately remember what had happened. Almost everything we’d done inside the Department of Mystery. It returned yesterday, though.”</p><p>The department of mystery, Hermione thought. Rabnott!</p><p>“What about Rab- “, she interrupted, but Draco stopped her with his thumb, sealing her lips shut.</p><p>“Let me get to it.”</p><p>He shuffled back just a bit, making himself comfortable on small space he could fit on without pushing her away. Hermione would have made room for him, but her legs were still numb.</p><p>“Remember the police chasing us? I told you, there was a pre-set timer. It activated while we were running and we got sucked back to our current time, but one single bullet that would have struck us got caught in between travels. It splintered, most of it hitting you, some of it me.”</p><p>Hermione nodded, and she noticed then that she could nod again.</p><p>“Under usual circumstances, any bullet wouldn’t have hurt us that much. Its properties changed when it got squeezed through time and space though, and when we finally landed here again, it had an unknown effect, ten-times stronger. Since you got the worst of it, the Healers thought that you might have even worse memory loss than me.”</p><p>“Then why haven’t I?”, she asked. Draco's jaw clicked.</p><p>“You're alive and well, that's all I care about."</p><p>She met his soft gaze and a blooming warmth spread from her chest, covering her still partially numb body with a hot, tingling sensation. Without looking away for even a second, he continued.</p><p>"But, had you not realized where we were when you did, they might have actually got us.”</p><p>Hermione remembered her momentary conclusion of the situation they had gotten caught in, and she wondered if she was right.</p><p>“You knew it, right? You brilliant witch”, Draco said, placing his hands on either side of her neck, stroking her cheeks.</p><p>“You figured out where we were, and what time.”</p><p>Hermione opened her mouth, recalling the bits of information she had read about in her True Crime obsession at age ten, remnants of which were in her living room bookshelf.</p><p>“The night Elizabeth Stride and Catherine Eddowes died, presumably by the hands of the notorious Jack the Ripper”, she mumbled, repeating the words she’d read once in one of her many books.</p><p>Draco nodded.</p><p>“Whoever was actually supposed to travel there would have been there to pick up the cloth, the only piece of forensic evidence in the entire case. But you figured that out, didn’t you?”</p><p>He was looking at her again with that look of pure awe. Hermione’s head was swirling with all of the new information.</p><p>“Rabnott?”, she asked.</p><p>“Oh yes, Rabnott. The room with the machines got blown up, and because it was impenetrable by magical forces, we landed one floor higher, in the middle of the Quidditch League Headquarters.”</p><p>“What about the person who was there?”, Hermione asked. Draco's hands dropped to her lap, holding hers and he looked down.</p><p>“It was one of Rabnott’s minions. He died in the explosion.”</p><p>Hermione let the information sink in. A nameless underling had died. Because of them. A moment of silence stretched out between them. Draco had intertwined their hands, his thumb softly stroking her tingling palms. She barely managed to curl her fingers around his, holding on tight.</p><p>“But, Hermione – we got what we wanted. We blew the Department wide open. Rabnott and all the others have been apprehended, and a huge investigation has been launched.”</p><p>She glanced up from their hands in her lap, meeting his eyes.</p><p>“We did it. They want us to be main witnesses once we’re completely healthy again.”</p><p>Hermione looked at Draco, unable to deny him the relieved, warm smile he gave her. Her chest was pulsing, constricting confusingly. They’d done what they had set out to do.</p><p>Yet, someone had died.</p><p>No one else could get hurt because of Rabnott anymore.</p><p>“We did it.”</p><p>And Hermione let herself hug him, still a bit numb. Draco was a wall of support she could sink against, glad they still had their lives, and even more glad that he had been there with her.</p><p>But while she laid in his arms, the words sitting at the top of her tongue, she refused to let them out.</p><p>She didn’t know yet that this exhausting trial would need every last bit of their energy; that it would keep them up at night, reliving how they almost died 110 years in the past; that the machine they’d stole from Zurich would be one of many pieces of evidence, and that Die Neugefundenen were going to be dispersed and all of Rabnott’s wrongdoings they had merely suspected, were to be uncovered.</p><p>That it was her Protego at the last second that shielded her from the worst outcome imaginable; that Harry was going to be less than satisfied, although proud of what they had used his cloak for, then a bit disgusted when he walked in on them weeks later making out in their office, then a bit more pleased that Hermione was nothing if not happy with her standoffish boyfriend who kept breaking the no-making-out-or-else-a-work-rule.</p><p>That Theo would gift them, in celebration of their recovery, heaps upon heaps of Valentine’s chocolate even though it was October, and that he would keep sending them candy lingerie every weekend, insisting they should try it just once.</p><p>That one day, just a few months from now while she’d be watching Draco attempt to prepare a horrible breakfast for the both of them in her kitchen, too distracted by trying to figure out her muggle stove to notice her, that she would walk up and hug him from behind, reaching up to whisper <em>I love you</em> in his ear, before he could pin her between his hips and the counter to conquer her body while they laughed.</p><p>Hermione didn’t know any of that yet, but she soon would.</p>
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